


Kiss Me Hello

by Alice in Stonyland (Raine_Wynd)



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-07-11
Updated: 2001-07-11
Packaged: 2017-10-10 18:31:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/102784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raine_Wynd/pseuds/Alice%20in%20Stonyland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Never Swear on the Lady's Honor. Nina's back and in love....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Panzer/Davis owns 'em and so forth. I know the drill by now, but I'm still marching to a different cadence. :-) Xan, Alex, and Flynn are Rhiannon Shaw's characters and are used with her permission; Nina and all other original characters are mine. All original characters have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever for to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by anyone known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
> 
> Sequel to Never Swear on a Lady's Honor, but I've tried to write it so it stands alone.
> 
> This is dedicated with love and friendship to Leila, Rhi, Dragon, and Marissa, for being there when I needed a friend the most.

_Boston, 1905_

_Damn it, this is the last thing I need. All I wanted was to steal a necklace and find a place to hide in plain sight._ Apparently deeply engrossed in the newspaper as she sat in the grand parlor of the hotel, Nina Williams cursed as she scented another immortal. She couldn't afford the distraction right now; the police would be looking for a thief soon, and she wanted to be where someone would account for her whereabouts. Almost as soon as the impact to her initial plan registered, her mind spun out a contingency plan. She looked across the room to find that the stranger was already on his way to meet her. Deliberately, she returned her focus to the newspaper. She wasn't interested in playing the Game today.

He was handsome in an unmistakably rakish way, but his scent held traces of funereal roses. It wasn't a pleasant scent, and Nina had already learned that if the smells she sensed were unappealing that she'd best pay attention. Already on guard, she nonetheless waited for him to make the opening move.

“Hello,” he greeted cordially. “My name is Axel Whittaker, and I couldn't help noticing a beautiful woman like you all alone.”

“Perhaps there is a reason for it,” she returned coolly.

Uninvited, he took the seat beside her. “Did you have an accident recently? One where you miraculously healed?”

Inwardly, Nina rolled her eyes. _Who does he think I am? Just because I'm alone doesn't mean I'm not prepared to deal with him if need be._ “Six years ago, my father tried to beat me to death.” Though her words were a truth, Nina didn't seeing the point in revealing that she'd actually been killed when a circus magician used her as his stand-in while practicing a new death-defying trick. Something told her Axel was more interested in acquiring her – for what she didn't know and wasn't sure she wanted to find out – than in how she died the first time. Though she'd only been in the Game for five years, Nina had been fortunate to have two immortals as co-teachers, and she'd been a quick study. That combined education was helping her see through Axel's attempts to recruit her. Curious, she asked, “Is this where I'm supposed to ask how you know I died?”

Anticipation made his eyes gleam. “Then you know about us, about the Game.” Quickly, he added, “I can help you with that. I can protect you from others of our kind. You need never raise a sword against anyone.”

“What makes you think I need protecting?”

“You don't have a sword,” he pointed out. His gaze raked her attire, taking in the low-cut, scandalously ankle-revealing dress she was wearing, and the way she'd worn her long, wavy brunette hair up in a proper style. What he couldn't see was the sword-as-a-parasol tucked beside her chair. “Even accounting for the length of your skirt, the way you're sitting tells me you don't have it hidden in a short harness. Besides, you didn't stand up or move away when I came in the room. If I was after your head, I could have taken it by now.”

“In public?” she countered. Unconsciously, she sat up straighter. “In front of witnesses? I thought we weren't supposed to show ourselves.” Before Axel could reply, she watched his eyes abruptly glaze over as the scent of something old, something vaguely seacoast-born, olive-tinged and sunny, with more than a hint of musk, assaulted her senses. From the layers to the smell, Nina knew she wasn't just sensing one immortal. Apparently, Axel felt them as well, for his body stiffened in the unmistakable bracing induced by sensing immortal presence.

“Come on, there are others approaching,” he urged as he stood. “Let me put you somewhere safe.”

“Whatever for?”

“Because they're out for both of our heads,” he growled.

“Oh, and you're going to be brave and strong and defend me? I'd rather not go with you if you don't mind.”

Axel grabbed her arm and pulled her upright as newspaper scattered to the floor. “Come on, you little fool.”

Nina didn't hesitate. Using her free hand, she struck him, only to find her wrist locked in a vise grip, the blow never falling on its intended target. “Let me go.” She enunciated every word and projected her voice with all the skill of someone who'd made a living on circus stages. “You're not my husband or my father and you have no right to restrain me.”

“Is this gentleman bothering you, miss?” a baritone voice asked as its owner stepped up behind Whittaker. Nina's eyes widened; the new immortal looked like some dark Greek god of perfection while his companion was only a lighter version. She felt Whittaker's surprise and quickly capitalized on it, twisting her arms to try to dislodge his grip.

“Yes, damn it,” she said when her struggles failed to produce results.

One tanned hand reached up and easily disengaged Axel's grip in a way that Nina knew could rapidly become agonizing. “I believe the lady said she wasn't interested.” The bass voice was pleasant, but held steel even as the blond immortal smiled from Axel's other side. “Now, shall we behave like gentlemen or would you prefer something less…appropriate?”

It didn't escape Axel's notice that the newcomers now flanked him, one on either side. Aware that he was at a disadvantage, Axel's expression changed to a snake's hissing warning. Releasing Nina, he hissed, “You'll regret not taking my offer. I'll make sure of it.”

She smiled and inclined her head. Her golden brown eyes never left his. “As you wish, sir,” she agreed readily, her tone faintly mocking. “But as you can see, I've found better company.” It was a gamble, she knew; for all that the strangers appeared to be friendly, they might deceive her, but she'd always trusted her instincts.

For a moment, Nina held her breath. Axel appeared as though he wanted to make more of an issue of her words, but the glaring looks and intimidating body language the two other immortals radiated left him no choice but to leave without further comment. Settling for one last hateful glance, Axel strode away, his steps conveying his frustration.

“Are you okay?” the darker of the two strangers asked her.

She rubbed at her forearms, aware that the bruising had already healed, but unable to stop the automatic reaction. “I'm fine,” she assured him. “I'm Nina Williams,” she introduced herself. “You would be?”

“I'm Alex Daniels and this is Xan Morgan,” he introduced himself and his companion. “Would you like to join us for dinner? We were just headed to the restaurant.”

Nina smiled. _ Dinner with two handsome men? This might work out better than what I had planned, but I might have to catch a later train. Amanda and Flynn are going to be worried when I get to Baltimore. Oh, well, I can always explain myself later. This looks like it should be a better alibi than just sitting here reading._ Aloud, she said, “I'd love to join you, if I'm not imposing on you too much.”

“No imposition at all,” Xan chimed in. “Besides, this way, we can make sure that idiot doesn't try to bother you again.”

“I'd appreciate that,” she told them.

To Nina's surprise, conversation flowed well over dinner as she became better acquainted with the two men. It was clear that they were well traveled and educated, and neither struck her as being a fool. Though she felt incredibly na ve in comparison, she enjoyed the learning experience, and felt completely at ease with them. It seemed only natural that she took turns dancing with them. By the time they started up the stairs to their rooms, she didn't want the night to end. Going on impulse, she smiled and said, “It doesn't have to be good night just yet.”

She was rewarded with interested looks from both men. Alex asked, “Are you sure?”

Though a small voice in her head was wondering what in the world she was doing, Nina ignored it. She had an opportunity here to find out for herself about something Amanda had said could be fun under the right circumstances, and Nina wanted nothing more than to enjoy life. For a moment, her mind flashed on the things that her father had claimed were sinful – and then she heard Amanda's amused voice telling her that _someone_ usually considered everything fun to be a sin. Besides, she did need an alibi….

Taking a deep breath, Nina gathered her bravado around her like a cloak. “It may be unfashionable for a lady to be so forward,” she stated, “but I'm just a simple ranch girl from Arizona, and where I'm from, fashion is for fools.”

Xan shook his head, smiling at her. “Fashion is one thing; this is pleasure, which is frequently something entirely different.” He held a hand out to her, palm up, and waited for her response. “Shall we?”

Taking the offered hand, she smiled. Impulsively, she leaned forward and brushed a kiss across his lips. “Whenever you're ready,” she answered.

No more words were spoken as they quickly ascended the stairs to the room Xan and Alex had booked, but Nina could feel their combined desire weaving an invisible tension between them. The moment Xan let go of her hand to shut the door behind them, Nina's nerves returned. Suddenly feeling awkward, she halted just inside the room.

Alex smiled at her. “Second thoughts?” he asked gently, his face reflecting his understanding.

Unable to trust her voice, she started to shake her head no, then swallowed hard. “Yes,” she admitted candidly, laughing softly at herself as she set her parasol/sword down on a chair. “But only about how much you want from me.”

“Anything you want to give,” he answered her as he took her hands in his and used his thumbs to rub gently across the backs of her hands.

Giggling, she pointed out, “But that could be nothing…or everything.” In that second, Nina shoved her hesitation aside and threw herself into giving herself what she wanted. “I think you already know I'm not going to leave you with nothing.”

Behind her, Xan purred into her ear, “I hope you don't.”

Nina shuddered at the whisper of heated breath on her ear even as she dared, “Then why don't you help me get this dress off?”

“That we can do,” Xan agreed readily. He opened the tall collar of her dress, nibbling and kissing every inch of her skin as he exposed it. The top of her dress slid off her arms and pooled around her hips, where the bulk of her petticoats prevented it from falling to the floor. In the meantime, Alex had worked his way under her skirts and was unbuttoning her shoes where she stood, running his hands up to unclasp the garters that held the delicate silk stockings in place (and not so incidentally, the small, sheathed dagger she'd strapped to her right thigh). Nina shivered in delight, though whether it was from Alex's hands or from Xan's kisses on her breasts as he did away with her corset cover, she couldn't tell and didn't want to figure out.

She felt, more than heard, Alex's curse against her back as he discovered the scars that marred the skin there. As Nina instinctively stiffened, Alex murmured something in a language she didn't understand, to which Xan replied in what sounded like the same language. Xan stepped away to put her corset cover on a nearby chair, leaving her feeling bereft and exposed. Subconsciously, she crossed her arms.

“Shh, it's all right,” Alex said in English to Nina. “Who whipped you?” he asked gently. “You don't have to tell us, but we're curious why anyone would hurt you.” His fingers lightly brushed her forearms in a reassuring gesture that made her heart ache with the tenderness conveyed in it, and she dropped her arms to her sides.

For a moment, she stared at the dark Greek, hesitating. The genuine concern and curiosity in his black eyes undid her, as did Xan's stroking of her shoulders. “My father,” she admitted. “If the preacher's wife hadn't stopped him, I would've died. I ran away as soon as I could.” The urgent desire was fading in light of the admission, and Nina desperately wanted it back. If she could get it back, she wouldn't have to think, wouldn't have to feel left on the outside of something special. “But I'd rather not talk about that now; he's not here, and he's spoiled enough of my fun for a lifetime.”

“Then,” Xan declared, “we won't let him.”

To Nina's surprise, he began kissing and stroking her back, soothing tense muscles. Slowly, it dawned on Nina that he was tracing the patterns of freckles and scars there, and she blinked away tears. Lifting her chin, she looked at Alex, who smiled and kissed her until she forgot the tears and felt only desire.

Through his own rising passion, Alex knew he had to take it slow. Despite her scandalously skimpy attire, Nina wasn't a whore, and wouldn't be as eager to do whatever he and Xan pleased. Moreover, Alex didn't think that Nina was very experienced; her responses were too eager to be practiced. Beyond that, it was a point of personal pride with him that he treated his lovers well. A glance at Xan confirmed that his lover was thinking along the same lines.

Unaware that the two men had silently agreed to ensure her pleasure before their own, Nina tried to focus on the sensations they were arousing in her as first her petticoat, then her dress fell to the floor. Her balance assured by Alex's grip on her arms, Xan helped her simultaneously step out of the puddle her dress made as well as out of her shoes. Every action was accompanied by touches that only served to increase her desire, and instinctively, Nina knew she was dealing with two very experienced men.

This wasn't anything like the awkward fumbling around she'd done with the preacher's son when he'd taken her virginity on her fifteenth birthday. It was closer to the tenderness Amanda had shown her as she'd taught her that sex wasn't something to be ashamed of, but something to be enjoyed. It certainly wasn't the efficient, educational, but ultimately unsatisfying encounter she'd had with a male prostitute Amanda had hired for her in San Francisco as a birthday present. Even so, Nina knew this was a completely different experience, and she wanted to keep every moment of it in her memory. Yet the fire heating her blood was making her head spin with the effort of concentration.

As if through a haze, she reached for Alex, wanting to undo his vest. It wasn't fair that the only thing he'd shed was a jacket. She'd caught the gleam of a sword hilt as he'd laid the jacket down. Her hands met Xan's, and she heard him chuckle softly before letting her attend to the buttons on Alex's vest. The moment the vest came off, though, her advantage was lost.

She looked down to see that Alex had taken advantage of her nudity to suckle on her left breast as Xan deserted her back to help the other man undress. Nina's breath caught as she watched Xan's hands deftly remove Alex's clothing, love and experience turning the simple task into an extended play. With a small start, she realized that Alex and Xan were lovers. For a moment, all she could do was feel the backwash of the love they shared, and she sighed in envy. Needing to be a part of that, she reached for Xan's hand as it stroked Alex's cock between them.

Both men went still. Nina frowned, not understanding why they'd stopped, and shook her head slightly. Not trusting her voice, she began to rub Xan's hand and Alex's cock simultaneously. Her action was rewarded with a shudder from Alex and a strangled groan from Xan. Satisfied that they'd understood her, she continued to stroke as Alex turned his attention to her other breast. His right hand slid over her thigh and pressed on her mound before his fingers spread over her nether lips to perform a counterpoint to her stroking.

Moaning, she arched up against that hand as waves of pleasure crested through her. Wrapped up in the joy he was giving her with his deft fingers, she let go of Alex's cock and grasped his shoulders as her knees started to give way. His free arm caught her before she lost her balance, and then Xan was there as well to ease her onto the bed.

Now it was Xan's turn to take possession of her mouth. His lips felt different from Alex's, but as enjoyable as they were, she was no longer satisfied with just kissing. He'd undressed himself before falling into bed, and she took advantage of that to explore his body. He, like his lover, was hard and muscular, and the cock that jutted out proudly from his groin was the biggest Nina had ever seen. Even as she stared at it, Alex's hand snaked around her body to stroke it.

“Ever had something like that?” Alex asked her as he knelt beside her.

Nina was too far into the realm of passion to lie, though a small voice in her head wanted her to appear worldlier than she was. Shaking her head slowly, she answered, “Not like that, but I want to taste it.” She breathed deeply, her body shaking faintly with the desire coursing through her. Drawing on the internal courage that had brought her to this point, Nina stated boldly, “Show me how.” She turned her head, staring into Alex's eyes. “Please.”

The flash of emotion that crossed his face was one that Nina didn't recognize. He nodded once, and then moved so that he was on the other side of his lover's body. Gently, he tugged on Nina's arm so that she moved in between Xan's spread legs. He then bent his head and put his mouth on Xan's cock just around the head, then slowly slid down the shaft and back up, cheeks hollowing as he sucked hard on the upstroke. He repeated it once, twice, then released him, apparently reluctantly, and made room for Nina to try if she liked. Getting the idea, Nina tentatively copied Alex's action. Quickly discovering that she liked how Xan's cock felt in her mouth, she lost her hesitation. Figuring he would like the feel of her tongue if she used it, she proceeded to do so. Xan groaned; he hadn't expected such a reaction.

Delighted with her newfound knowledge, Nina kept going. Xan's hands tangled in her hair as he tried not to thrust too hard into her mouth, but she didn't seem to notice, too enraptured by the new sensations as passion rippled through her body at the thought of giving him pleasure. Alex's mouth swallowed Xan's cry as he came. The unexpected liquid flooding her mouth almost made her gag, but she swallowed what she could as she felt her own release shoot through her.

Lifting her head, she smiled at Xan and Alex. She knew what she wanted to do next. Before either man could say anything, she moved to straddle Alex. Not stopping her movement, she positioned herself so that his cock entered her as she sat down on him. She shuddered as his hard length filled her. He felt so good inside her, and she rested there a moment. Alex grasped her hips firmly and began to set a slow, steady rhythm. She arched her back as she rocked with his thrusts, and let her head fall back. Steadying her, Xan began kissing her mouth, ears, and neck as his hands caressed her breasts in turn even as he kept her perfectly positioned to receive his lover's cock. Nina moaned loudly, expressing her pleasure until she was reduced to whimpering, shallow breaths that told her lovers that she was nearing another orgasm. Only then did Alex let himself go to enjoy his own release.

Trembling with the aftershocks, Nina could only whimper as Alex gathered her against his chest, soothing her. Xan's arms wrapped around both of them, then turned them so all three lay on their sides, Nina wrapped between them. Exhausted for the moment, the lovers drifted into sleep, only to awaken a short time later to slake their passion again.

* * *

Morning brought with it a light drizzle that kept the room darker than usual. Never a long sleeper and accustomed to working in the dark, Nina carefully extricated herself from Xan's arms and began dressing. Shamelessly, she stole one of the Greek's shirts and put it on instead of the dress she'd worn. The shirt hung large on her smaller frame, and she'd had to roll up the sleeves to accommodate her shorter arms. Still, it was faster than messing with the various components of her dress, and she wanted to be gone quickly, fashion and politeness be damned. It wouldn't be the first time she'd sneaked out of a hotel via the back stairs.

She didn't want to overstay her welcome, and she could see that what Xan and Alex shared was special. Images from the night before flashed through her mind, heating her blood as she recalled how, at one point, Xan and Alex had seemed to forget that she was there, kissing each other with such passion and love that she'd gotten aroused just watching them. Then Alex had turned to her as if she'd never been forgotten, and she'd lost herself in the moment.

_Someday, _she promised herself, _I'll have that kind of love, one that can accept anything. Until then, I'll take what I can, and I won't give my heart away._ More than that, though, was the fact that she was supposed to be getting on a train later that morning, and she wanted to be out of town before the police started asking questions about missing jewelry.

“Don't go just yet, Nina,” Xan murmured in her ear just as she reached the door, her clothes in a neatly wrapped bundle and her parasol in hand. “Or are you in a hurry to be somewhere else?”

“I'm supposed to meet a friend,” she admitted, barely resisting the urge to lean back against his body.

“At this hour of the morning?” he questioned. Concern colored his tone as he asked, “There isn't any trouble, is there?”

Nina chuckled softly. Something told her Alex wasn't as asleep as his posture on the bed indicated, but she didn't want to make assumptions. “Oh, there's always trouble,” she assured Xan as she turned to face him. “But it's nothing you have to worry about.” She kissed him, drawing out the action until she nearly forgot why she was leaving. It was too easy to be with him like this, knowing she could spend the entire day with him and Alex and not have to worry about anything. She had responsibilities, though, and she would be late if she didn't leave now. Moreover, she didn't want to stick around for any regrets. She was afraid she'd enjoy staying entirely too much, and stay too long.

Stepping back, she told Xan, “I'll see you.”

He started to protest, but she pulled open the door and slipped through before his words could register.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hawaii, 2001  
Sunday_

The memory faded as Nina drew in a deep breath and rested her chin on her drawn-up knees. Her feet were bare, red-painted toenails peeking out from the sand in which they were buried. She'd pulled her hair into a ponytail, thus revealing more of her face. Thin eyebrows rose over almond-shaped, golden brown eyes separated by a pert nose; a light dusting of freckles dotted her cheeks. Her full lips were currently drawn into a not-quite-frown. The warm Hawaiian sun had little to do with the pale bronze hue of her skin, though it was doing its best to deepen the shade. With the white Capri pants and the red halter top she wore, she looked like a fashionably dressed, sun-worshipping sixteen-year-old, not someone who was a hundred and thirty-three years old. Only a glance at her back revealed that she'd lived a harder life than most, for the skin there was scarred with the faded yet still distinct mark of a whip.

She was tired; it had been a long, turbulent flight from Las Vegas to Waimanalo, a city on the windward side of the Hawaiian main island. Home — in the form of visiting her first teacher Flynn O'Doherty — had seemed like an extremely good idea after all she'd been through the last four days.

Sighing deeply, she thought about how relatively na ve she'd been that long ago night with Xan and Alex. That entire night, she'd never felt as though witnessing the love they had for each other was wrong, never felt as though being able to share in it was something worthy of shame. She refused to believe that it was anything less than natural, pleasurable, and fun. Now, though, the doubts were like thunderclouds over her heart.

_Oh, Greg, _she sighed mentally, _why did you have to make me feel this way? I'm so confused. I thought what we had was good enough. I thought I could keep you from finding out. I thought keeping you out of my heart was going to be easier than this._

Exhaling heavily, she leaned more on her crossed arms. Looking out at the water, she found herself wishing she could turn back the clock, just for once, and erase the past. Even as she thought that, a new smell rose above those of the ocean, sending her reflexes on alert as the odor warned her of another immortal.

The heather- and Irish moss-laden scent was a familiar one. Relaxing slightly, she turned her head and looked over her right shoulder to find an auburn-haired Irishman walking towards her. He had the compact, muscular build of the circus acrobat she'd first known him to be. Today his attire was a T-shirt emblazoned with “E=mc2 – A.E.” and a pair of faded jean shorts that hugged his lithe form and showed off his muscular calves. She smiled, recognizing Flynn.

“You planning to brood all afternoon?” he asked her. His voice held only a hint of the strong brogue she'd first known him to have.

“I'm not brooding,” she denied, though that was exactly what she'd been doing. “I'm enjoying your bit of beach here.”

“You flew all the way out here just to come to my beach?”

She rose to her feet now, shrugging shoulders too broad to be considered feminine. “Why not?” she challenged as traces of a wider smile tugged on her lips. “If you're going to sanctify a beach in honor of the Hawaiian god of the sea, you ought to expect that someone's going to come and pray.”

Flynn's green eyes narrowed. “The only religion you've ever practiced was the temple of pleasing yourself,” he pointed out. “Amanda taught you that one too well.”

Nina heard the worry underlying Flynn's sarcastic observations. Closing the distance between them, she hugged him, marveling as she always did that he was only as tall as her own five feet five inches. No matter how many times she saw him, she pictured him as being taller, especially since his antics were the ones that often caused her the most trouble. “As if you didn't teach me that right along with her?” she chided him now. “You might've been the first to explain to me why I survived a magician's trick gone wrong, but I distinctly remember both of you standing there in the performers' quarters that day.”

Flynn hugged her back, lingering a moment before he released her. “Januz shouldn't have been trying to mix throwing knives and magic when he was drunk,” he growled, and Nina chuckled at the old complaint.

“When wasn't Januz drunk?” she asked practically. “The man was a walking bottle of vodka.” So saying, she linked her arm around Flynn's and they began walking to his house. Mimicking a thick Albanian accent, she quoted, “'Today is a good day to drink to life.'” She laughed softly at the memory; she'd never harbored ill will towards Januz for what amounted to an accident. “Never saw a man more ready to toast anything.”

“True,” Flynn agreed. “He managed to annoy me enough that I wanted to shove him at the fire-eater we had once.”

Aware of her teacher's penchant for practical jokes, Nina looked at him. “I'm surprised you didn't set something up to scare him.”

“I wanted to,” Flynn admitted casually. “Amanda talked me out of it, reminded me that Januz wouldn't heal like we do.” He said nothing more as they crossed the short distance to the rear deck of his house. Once inside, he moved to the kitchen and poured her a glass of water from a pitcher he extracted from the refrigerator. The unexpected drink was both an acknowledgement of how long he'd known she was out there and a reprimand for the length of time she'd been out there. Dehydration was still a risk for an immortal. Nina accepted the glass with a grateful smile as her slight nod recognized the silent scolding. She then took a long drink as she slid onto the stool at the breakfast bar.

“Now,” the Irish immortal declared practically, setting the pitcher on the counter as he took a seat on the stool beside Nina, “tell me who's mad at me this week.”

Chuckling, Nina set her glass down. “Nearly everyone who's ever met you, as if you didn't know that already,” she informed him dryly. “Most days I pretend you and I have never met. I was at a conference three years ago and ended up taking Keith Moon's head because you pulled a practical joke on him.”

“He was always an arrogant bastard,” Flynn remarked. “Never could take a joke.” He studied his student a moment, seeing the traces of worry and exhaustion in her eyes. “Who was it this time?”

Nina shook her head. “I haven't answered a challenge since then. Come on, Flynn, I've been living in a hotel on the Strip in Vegas. Most of us know better than to want to risk the damage and exposure a Quickening might do to the Strip.”

Ever the irrepressible scamp, Flynn mulled over the idea. “Might be worth it once,” he commented with a smile. “Someone might walk away with a million dollars if all the slot machines went haywire at the same time.”

Narrowing her eyes, Nina paused in the midst of going to take another sip of water, her hand stopping a moment before the glass touched her lips. “Don't tell me you and Amanda have planned it out,” she groaned. “I do not want to know.”

“My favorite co-student moves to Las Vegas and expects me not to contemplate how I might profit from this?”

Nina rolled her eyes and finally took the drink of water. “I'm your *only* co-student, Flynn. Don't give me that. If you and Amanda hadn't been lovers, and if you hadn't had to leave town unexpectedly three years into training me, you wouldn't even have a co-student.”

She took a moment to study the face of one of the few men she trusted beyond words. Perhaps better than most, she understood Flynn wasn't all comedy and practical jokes. Like many of the immortals Nina knew, he was one of the older ones; his first teacher had found him in Galway, Ireland in 420 A.D. A complex man, as comfortable working as a quietly renowned physicist and part-time university professor as he was on the high wire, Flynn was thoroughly dangerous when provoked. As his student, she'd more than once been the culprit who'd unleashed that Irish temper. Nina loved him as a father and a friend, even if she often served as a surrogate target when one of the victims of his jokes wanted vengeance. Now she could see that his face held concern for her unexpected appearance. She sighed, knowing she'd delayed this conversation long enough.

“It's been a bad week,” Nina admitted. “They closed the hotel with no notice to anyone and I'm out of both a job and a place to live. Apparently, the owners of the hotel failed to pay back taxes, and the IRS seized it, forcing us to shut down.”

“So when is the rest of your stuff arriving? I saw you'd put two suitcases in the guest bedroom.”

“It's not,” she told him, and saw the relieved sigh shudder through his body. Chuckling, she added, “I know you. You can handle a guest for a night or two, but your life doesn't have room for anything longer than that. I heard from Amanda you're working on some top-secret projects.”

“How'd she find out…. Well, she always did have her sources.” Flynn favored Nina with a rueful smile. “Sorry, but it's true. I'd love to have you stay, but they'd probably start running background checks on you.”

“It's okay,” she assured him. “It's not the first job I've ever lost through no fault of my own. I just….” She favored him with a sad smile. “I really enjoyed it, and I've an offer from one of the other hotels to run their stage show.”

“So why aren't you there now?”

Nina took a deep breath. “Because the person who's asking wants more than just me working for him.”

His eyes swept over her in a critical assessment that seemed to penetrate to her soul. She held herself still, knowing he'd see too much no matter what she did to conceal it; he'd helped teach her how to hide her feelings. “Let me guess. He's in love with you, and you're falling in love with him.”

With an exasperated sigh, Nina stood and began pacing the small kitchen. “Damn it, I don't want to be. If he was one of us, I might be able to stand it. Quite honestly, immortals have always been easier for me than mortals; I never had to explain anything then. I thought I was doing well by not getting too involved with anyone, immortal or not. No strings, no commitments, no promises, and no unnecessary lies. I thought I had it all worked out. Greg…crept under my radar.”

“Damned sneaky of him,” Flynn said. “I like him already.”

That stopped Nina's pacing as she turned and leveled a look at the other man. “You would,” she acknowledged with a rueful smile. “He wanted to be a comedian, but his jokes…they're funny, but he can't deliver them right, so they're not as funny as they ought to be.” Sliding onto the stool again, she finished the glass of water and poured herself another one from the pitcher Flynn had left on the counter. “He thinks I'm Reina Sanchez, that I'm twenty-five, originally from Phoenix, and I ran away from home to become a showgirl. He doesn't even know my real name, but he swears he's in love with me.” Her hands clenched into half fists of frustration, underscoring her words.

Flynn studied her thoughtfully. “You're sure he's serious. How do you feel about him? Other,” he added dryly, “than frightened enough to fly out here to have someplace secure to think.”

Nina sighed. “I thought I knew. Then Xan and Alex showed up.”

_Three days earlier_

_The Grand Illusion_

_Las Vegas, Nevada_

As the executive director of entertainment for the magic-themed hotel, Nina spent most of her work hours ensuring that the hotel's entertainment options were the best they could be. She also supervised the senior talent coordinator for the hotel, thus serving as the final authority on acts that would appear on the hotel's two stages. Though she'd made a living performing in the circus and on various stages across the world on more than one occasion, she'd decided against having her name in marquee lights for this particular identity. Since her normal workday didn't start until two p.m., she had time to eat brunch and wander through the casino, seeing who would comprise the evening crowd at the shows.

Nina never ceased to be amazed by the sheer mix of humanity that filled into the casino. She remembered when Las Vegas wasn't a city of neon lights, spinning roulette wheels, or even the more recent transformation to a place of grand spectacles of family-oriented entertainment. Quite simply, Nina loved its modern persona, not in the least for the fact that it turned one section of the city into a place too conspicuous for a swordfight. Though she wasn't interested in the Prize, Nina had met more than her share of immortals who had been. She'd learned a long time ago how to play the Game, and she didn't back down from a fight she felt she could win. Still, she liked knowing that she lived in a relatively neutral zone; it made for an interesting life as various immortals passed through the Strip.

This particular day, she was running late, thanks to an unscheduled (but not unwelcome) lunch with Amanda that had turned into a shopping trip in the Strip's newest shopping mall. As Amanda had explained, she'd been on her way to Seacouver (no doubt, Nina thought, to visit one of their friends who lived there), and thought she'd stop by and say hello since her flight had been routed through Las Vegas. As always, Nina had enjoyed her former teacher's company. Now, however, Nina swore at the elevators of the hotel, wishing they were faster so she could get to her suite and change out of the denim mini-dress she'd worn to meet Amanda and into something more professional, as was required by the corporate dress code. She'd taken advantage of the mall's concierge services and arranged for her purchases to be delivered to the Grand Illusion, and a few words with the front desk staff had ensured that the bags would be delivered to her suite.

Nina was almost tempted to take the stairs; she usually used them as part of her workout routine since she'd negotiated a suite in the hotel as part of her total compensation. As a result, she knew how long it would take her to ascend forty flights of stairs, and knew that if she did that, she'd have to take a shower and then she would definitely be late. Though Mahila, her assistant, had proved herself capable of handling almost any emergency, Nina preferred not to let things get to that point.

At last, the elevator opened, disgorging a tide of passengers. Plastering a smile on her lips for the benefit of the guests, Nina waited impatiently until the elevator was empty before stepping into it. Quickly, she pressed the button for her floor, and then hit the 'door close' button. To her immense relief, no one attempted to bodily stop the elevator doors from closing as so often happened, and she was able to continue up to her room without further delay. Just before she rounded the corner to her suite, she registered an immortal presence, filled with the scent of the Mediterranean Sea in sunlight, tempered by musk and something old that she'd never been able to identify.

Even as her mind screamed with joy and recognition, she cautioned herself to be calm. Just because she remembered the scent as belonging to one of her favorite lovers didn't mean that the immortal waiting for her was exactly who she thought he was. She'd been wrong once before, mistaking another Greek immortal for Xan. The resulting experience had been awkward to say the least. Taking a deep breath, she gripped the tote bag containing her sword more firmly and walked towards the source of the scent. To her relief and dismay, she wasn't wrong.

_Oh, Fate, what did I do to get temptation times two? _she wondered. _Wasn't sending Amanda my way enough? You know I'd go help her steal anything in a heartbeat, and she was flirting so shamelessly with me, I almost said yes._

_But the Greeks who stole half my heart a century ago? I don't need this, not right now. Not when I'm so close to getting a dream fulfilled. Being with them is an addiction I can't afford to indulge in… but I'm not sure if I can resist. _

**Or if you want to**, a small voice in her head whispered.

Drawing a deep breath, Nina shoved her fears away. The only way to deal with any given situation, in her opinion, was to face it head-on and smiling. The fact that butterflies were doing acrobatic flips in her stomach was merely a distraction, not a cause for concern.

Xan lounged against her door, but as soon as she came within sight, he stepped away from the door and met her halfway. Drawing her into a hug, he kissed her before she could speak. Reflexively, her hand came up between them, pushing him back before he could deepen the kiss. “Hello, Nina,” he greeted when he released her. His tone held a question she wasn't ready to answer yet.

“Hello, Xan.” Deliberately, she kept her greeting restrained. “Where's Alex?”

“He's waiting for you in your office.”

“Then why don't you wait down there?” she asked sweetly. From the outside pocket of the leather tote, she pulled out the plastic keycard to her suite and swiped it across the lock, then pushed the door open. “I'm late enough as it is.” Neatly, she stepped across the threshold and into her room, then shut the door behind her before Xan could enter.

The door safely between them, Nina exhaled slowly, willing the flash of desire that Xan had ignited to settle. She needed every ounce of willpower to resist the temptation that he meant to her and would need even more when she saw Alex. It had been three years since she'd last seen them, and it had been a memorable week in many ways. She'd looked forward to seeing them again, but hadn't expected to be in the situation that she was in now when their paths crossed again.

Breathing deeply, she reminded herself that Xan and Alex had been more than understanding in the past when she'd left them behind without warning. They would understand when she told them about Greg… but maybe she could get rid of them before Greg met her for dinner, and she wouldn't have to explain anything. Blithely, she ignored the possible problems with that course of action. Deciding that would be her plan, she went to change clothes.

Ten minutes later, she wasn't too surprised to find Xan still waiting outside her door. He took in her attire – a navy pinstripe suit with a short skirt, which she'd accessorized with gold jewelry, sheer hosiery, and a pair of navy flats – and raised an eyebrow. “You look very professional,” he complimented her. His tone conveyed his amusement at her attempt to dodge temptation.

Wryly, she informed him, “That's the point.” To keep him from asking questions about her, she took hold of the conversation as they headed for the elevator. “I would've been in my office sooner, but Amanda was in town and we had lunch.”

“Was she here long?” Xan inquired.

“Long enough to enjoy herself,” Nina replied as she depressed the 'down' button for the elevator; the administrative offices were on the first floor of the hotel. They were in luck; one of the elevators opened promptly, and both immortals stepped inside the unit. After depressing the correct button for the first floor, Nina turned to face Xan. She was careful to keep a distance away from him, not wanting to be too close. “Don't worry, Xan; Amanda has never taken more than anyone can afford to lose.”

“It's not her I'm concerned about,” came the calm reply. “She has a way of getting other people in trouble.”

Nina smiled. “It wouldn't be the first time. I once went to jail because she let go of the rope we were using to get into a museum. She got away with Marie Antoinette's tiara; I got stuck with the charge of theft.” Chuckling, she added, “Who did you think taught me how to be trouble?” That brought groans from her lover. Taking pity on him, she changed the subject.

“What brings you and Alex to see me?”

“We missed you,” he admitted simply. “Connor hadn't heard from you since you accepted his Christmas party invitation two years ago and then didn't show up, and since we were headed back to Sacramento, we thought you might enjoy spending some time with us. He was worried about you, as we've been, especially when we heard you'd taken a challenge at the airport.”

Nina's smile faded. “I'm sorry,” she apologized sincerely. “I… couldn't face anyone after that.” The memory of that particular Quickening made her shudder; she'd felt poisoned for days afterwards. Instinctively, Xan reached for her, but she shook her head, refusing the contact, then stepping out of reach to be sure he wouldn't attempt to hold her anyway. Closing her eyes briefly, she took a deep breath. “Being in a roomful of immortals was the last thing I wanted to do, especially since Connor had declared a truce. I figured it was better if I went home.”

“You scared a lot of people, Nina,” the Greek immortal admonished her. “From what I heard, it looked like Jade had won the fight, but no one was sure because no one could find the body.”

“I used her credit card and claimed I was her adopted daughter,” Nina admitted. “It was easy enough to get another ticket using that, and far easier to dump her body where no one would find it.” She paused. “I've always hated her guts. She's always wanted to be Amanda, but she never could do it well enough, and she's always hated the fact that I refused to train with her.” Nina shrugged. “I didn't see the point in giving her any pointers on my teacher's techniques.” She paused, and then decided to explain herself further. “Taking her Quickening was as though I'd swallowed a bottle of bitterness and frustration.”

“You should've called, let someone know.”

Shaking off the memory, touched by Xan's concern, Nina smiled as her natural good humor reasserted itself. “I did,” she informed him. “I told Amanda.”

That drew an exasperated sound from her companion, and she chuckled. Impulsively, she closed the distance between them and hugged him. “I'm sorry I worried you, but I thought she told you, and then when I didn't hear from you, I figured you were busy.”

The elevator doors opened then, and she proceeded to lead the way to her office, where she found Alex charming Mahila, her assistant.

Apparently in the midst of telling Mahila some outrageous tale, Alex halted in mid-sentence as Nina and Xan entered the medium-sized, richly furnished office. His smile widened instantly. Before Nina could speak, Alex captured her in a warm hug before kissing her as thoroughly as Xan had intended to do. It was only when she registered the reed-thin Pakistani woman's sigh of envy that Nina came to her senses and broke the embrace.

“It's good to see you,” Alex told her, smiling.

“So I gathered,” she noted. “I see you've already met Mahila.”

“Actually, Ms. Sanchez, “ Mahila put in respectfully, her diction clear but her voice still betraying her Pakistani roots, “I've met both Mr. Morgan and Mr. Daniels. They've been waiting for you for the last half-hour; Mr. Morgan thought he might find you sooner at your room. I tried calling you on your cellular phone, but then I found it in your office.”

“Damn, I knew I left it somewhere. Thanks, Mahila.” She turned to her guests. “Now that you both know that I'm all right, would you please go? I have work to do.”

“We don't get the backstage tour?” Alex pretended to pout, but the curls over his eyes couldn't hide the laughter in them.

“I can arrange that,” Nina told him. “You'll have to do without my company, though; I have to work on a few things before I'll be free.” She turned to her assistant. “Would you please make sure that they get a tour backstage, tickets to tonight's show and front row seats?”

“Of course, Ms. Sanchez.” Taking her cue, she picked up a thin red folder from her desk as she stood and handed it to Nina. “These need your signature, and you have an appointment with Mr. Torinson in half an hour. Mr. Gargorlio called; he'll meet you downstairs at The Golden Key at nine-thirty rather than nine as you had scheduled. Also,” and here Mahila handed her a sheaf of messages, “here are all the calls you need to return before five o'clock.”

“Thank you, Mahila. Now, if you'll excuse me?” Grateful for the excuse, and unwilling to wait for a reply, she disappeared into her office and shut the door.

“So,” Alex began, “is she free for dinner?”

“Oh no, Mr. Gargorlio always takes her to dinner on Thursdays,” Mahila volunteered as she picked up a padfolio from her desk and then began steering them towards the elevator. “He is very much in love with her.” The slender, black-haired woman glanced back at the two men. “If I hadn't seen the look on Ms. Sanchez's face after you kissed her, I would've sworn that she was in love with him too, but now I'm sure she's not.”

Xan and Alex exchanged looks. “Perhaps we came at a bad time,” Alex remarked.

Mahila chuckled as they neared the elevator. “Nonsense,” she assured him. “I've been working for Ms. Sanchez for almost two years now, and she has never been in a serious relationship. If the man wants wedding bells, whoosh! Out the door he goes. I think Mr. Gargorlio may be pressing her too hard. You look like just the antidote she needs.”

Xan muttered quietly, “Or the kick in the pants.” The two men glanced at each other, trading thoughts and opinions with that single quick look.

Alex nodded and set to work charming Mahila for all the information they could talk her out of. As far as he was concerned, they needed to know a few things…and he didn't think Nina was going to want to discuss it. He knew her well enough to recognize her talent in dodging questions she didn't want to answer.

By the time Mahila left them, Alex and Xan knew more about Mr. Gargorlio. According to Mahila, Greg Gargorlio was twenty-nine, a second-generation Irish-Italian, and the manager of entertainment at La France, a competing hotel a block north on the Strip. He'd worked at The Grand Illusion as the talent coordinator the year previously before being lured away with a promotion. In Mahila's words, Mr. Gargorlio was a “fun-loving gentleman who was a pleasure to work with, and everyone was sorry to see him go.”

From Mahila, the two Greeks also learned that Nina's job was a very demanding one. Every facet of the hotel's entertainment options – from the shows that were staged to the casinos to the music that was played in the elevators– came under her responsibility. Reporting directly to the hotel's general manager of operations, Nina had been solely responsible for booking some of the hottest talent in the country to appear on the Grand Illusion's stages. To hear Mahila tell it, Nina was the reason for the success of the hotel. It was clear to Xan and Alex that Mahila was very loyal to her boss, and admired her for being a career-focused woman.

On the surface, it appeared as though Nina was happy. Yet the two men had known Nina for far too many years to not know when something was bothering her. It wasn't like her to act like this – laugh with and at them, dance and flirt with them, make mad passionate love with them with barely a kiss goodbye when she slipped out the door, certainly – but not push them away. The promise Mahila extracted from them that they'd show up for dinner was an easy one to make. They were worried, and they wanted to assess this Gargorlio for themselves.

Impatiently, Greg checked his watch; he knew that Reina usually called her workday over at nine, and that Mahila would have delivered the message for Reina to meet him at nine-thirty. It wasn't like Reina to be late. Then he remembered that the bartender on duty was someone Reina liked, and decided to see if Reina had been ensnared in conversation. It wouldn't be the first time she'd gotten caught up in something like that, though it was more likely that she'd lost track of time while working on a project. He worried about her working so hard; it almost seemed at times as though she had something to prove to someone. Silently, he hoped that she wasn't in one of those moods; seeing her like that only made him want to shield her from whatever demons were causing her to feel so unworthy. Abandoning his seat at a table, Greg went in search of his fianc e.

Pushing her chair back, Nina breathed a sigh of relief that she'd managed to stay abreast of the endless paperwork associated with her position. Bidding Mahila goodnight, Nina headed for her room to freshen up for her dinner date.

As she'd half-anticipated, Xan and Alex were waiting for her. Some part of her wished she could just plead exhaustion, but the lie didn't sit well with her conscience, so she bit back the impulse. “Did you enjoy the show?” she asked as the two men trailed her into her suite.

“First time I've seen a goat disappear like that,” Alex remarked.

“That's not what I heard,” Nina interjected, unable to resist baiting them. It was purely a wild shot in the dark; she knew they were each at least a thousand years old, if not more, and the older immortals tended to have some odd stories involving all sorts of things.

To her surprise, both men looked slightly uncomfortable. “It wasn't our fault,” Xan protested.

“Oh, really?” Nina prompted as she slipped off the jacket of her suit and hung it up, which left her attired in an off-white silk blouse and a short navy skirt. “So whose fault was it?”

“Constantine,” Alex responded promptly. “He's the one who insisted the commander wanted fresh milk.”

“The commander?” Easily, Nina feigned knowledge she didn't have, working off educated guesses about the immortals involved. “I thought Constantine was the one in charge?”

“Oh, he was in charge all right.” Annoyance, never forgotten, showed through Alex's tone. “And Marcus always did have a gift for knowing what would win friends and influence officers.”

Nina considered the words and the tone a moment as she contemplated changing her outfit. A glance at her watch told her she had fifteen minutes to get downstairs to The Golden Key. “I've never met him,” she commented, “but I know Amanda has. She said he was a Roman general?”

Xan nodded. “We were in a post on the outskirts of Londinium, and Marcus was trying to curry some favor with the commander. We just wanted to let our identities fade out, but—”

“He got us drunk,” Alex admitted. “Next thing I remember is we had a goat in the barracks.”

“A billy goat,” the other Greek immortal clarified. “We'd grabbed the wrong one.”

“So what happened?” Having decided that what she wore would be sufficient for dinner, she took a seat on the side chair opposite the couch upon which her sometime lovers lounged. “You go dancing naked in the courtyard with the goat or what?”

A quick look was exchanged between Xan and Alex. Clearly stalling, Xan asked, “Did we tell you about Connor's new student?”

“No, you haven't,” came the amused reply. “And you can tell me about him or her later.”

“Her,” Alex quickly interjected. “Sharra.”

“Lovely name,” Nina remarked. “But you're not weaseling out of this one.”

“You'd like her,” Xan added, trying to support his lover.

“I like most everyone,” Nina retorted. “It's Flynn everyone wants to strangle, not me. Now, tell me about the goat, or I'll let Amanda and Flynn know about the practical joke you played on them.”

“You wouldn't,” Alex began, and then remembered to whom he was speaking. “You would,” he corrected himself, groaning. “That was our secret. You'd incriminate yourself if you said anything.”

Nina laughed at the expression on his face. “I promise I won't tell anyone,” she coaxed. “I'll even pay a forfeit of a kiss in advance as insurance.”

“Well,” Xan said thoughtfully as he stood and pulled Nina to her feet, “that's the best offer I've had all day. Especially if I get to hear just what Alex did, since I obviously wasn't there to participate.”

“Hey!” Alex protested as Xan took advantage of his position to kiss Nina with slow thoroughness, as if he was trying to make up for the kiss she'd cut short earlier, causing her to tremble slightly. Alex rose, and, trapped Nina between him and his lover, declaring, “You aren't playing fair.”

Laughing softly, Nina broke the kiss and turned around to face Alex as Xan's arms slid down her body to encircle her waist in a gently possessive way. “I play as fair as the next guy,” she informed him before pressing her lips against his. She meant to keep it light, but Alex knew what he wanted, and being this close to him and Xan was a heady mix that triggered all her buttons. His kiss sang through her veins, reminding her of all the times he'd touched her like this. Some part of her was shocked at her own eager response to the touch of his lips and the feel of Xan against her back. A small mental voice bleated danger, but she ignored it easily as her desire for both men grew.

Through a fog of passion-induced heat, she heard the door click open, but didn't stop kissing Alex. Kissing him was an addiction she'd been too long without, and the rest of the world didn't matter. Forgotten for the moment were all the reasons why she shouldn't be kissing him like this. Dimly, she heard a male voice ask, “Reina?”

It took her a moment to react to the assumed identity, but Alex was a second faster, ending the kiss. Whimpering, she started to reach for Alex again, only to feel Xan squeeze her warningly. Startled, she nearly backed into the blond, who steadied her and turned her in the direction of the entrance. Her heart plummeted as she realized who stood at the threshold, one hand bracing the heavy, self-locking door, a plastic access key in the other.

Dressed in a pair of gray casual dress pants, a white dress shirt and a gray patterned tie was the one man Nina hoped would never find her in the arms of another. He had a diamond-shaped face, a straight nose, thick eyebrows, a mustache, broad shoulders, and bore a passing resemblance to a B-list actor. His small, hazel green eyes took in the sight of Xan as he held her and Alex, then considered the two men before settling on Nina. A faint voice in Nina's head reminded her that her lips were still swollen from kissing, and that there'd be no mistaking the intimacy of the embrace.

As though someone else was speaking, she heard herself ask, “Greg?”

“Reina?” Greg asked again in a voice that said he didn't want to believe what he'd seen, but the shock and anger on his face told her that he was fighting for calm. “Who are these people?”

Unconsciously, Nina lifted her chin. “My friends, Alex Daniels and Xan Morgan. Alex, Xan, this is Greg Gargorlio.”

The men shook hands with measured politeness, as the room seemed to frost with Greg's unspoken anger. “If you'll excuse us, gentlemen,” Greg said tightly, “I believe I have a few things I'd like to discuss with my fianc e.” The emphasis on the relationship was not lost on anyone.

“She has no secrets from us,” Xan countered.

“That might be,” Greg allowed. “But I would prefer if you left right now.”

“Please,” Nina pleaded. Switching to Albanian, a language she'd learned from the magician who'd caused her first death, she added, “Let me handle this, and I promise I'll talk to you later.” Lightly, she went on, “You still owe me the rest of that goat story.”

“Have you told him everything?” Alex wondered, answering her in the same language.

“Not yet,” she replied, her face flushing at the implication that she should have told Greg something. “Now go, before I have to explain more than I already do.”

Reluctantly, two Greeks left, but Nina didn't dare look at them, so she missed the reassuring, supportive glances they sent her way. Instinctively, she knew she had to figure out some way of extricating herself from this situation, and she didn't want to make things any worse than they already were. In that moment, she damned herself for not exerting more willpower over the familiar attraction she felt for the two Greeks.

_Greg was getting too close. You wanted him to leave, _a small voice in her head reminded her smugly. _You don't want to give him your heart, knowing you give it to him with strings attached._

Staring at him now, though, Nina couldn't force herself to agree with the old, protective instinct.

“I didn't know you spoke another language,” Greg said accusingly once the door had shut behind Alex and Xan.

“Albanian, French, Navajo, and Spanish,” Nina informed him. Long practice at controlling her emotions in preparation for the Game kept her voice calm, but she could feel her palms sweating and her knees begin to tremble. “And the subject never came up.” Though she hated to concede any ground, especially since sitting would make their heights even more uneven than they usually were, Nina wasn't sure if she could remain standing. As casually as she could, she sat down on the couch.

“So, when were you going to tell me your old boyfriends were in town? Or were you hoping to hide them in the closet?”

The image of squeezing Alex and Xan into the miniscule closet struck Nina as funny, and she bit back the urge to laugh. “I wasn't planning to hide them. They surprised me. And for the record, I haven't said yes to your proposal yet.”

“Oh, so you were going to sow your wild oats and hope you didn't get caught?” His voice conveyed contempt as he closed the distance between them. “What the hell were you thinking, Reina? That I'd just wait quietly downstairs and not look for you when you were late?”

“Whom I sleep with is my business,” Nina retorted, rising to her feet to stand before him as anger singed the corners of her control. “I had a life before I met you, and I'll keep on having one whether or not you're in it.”

“Are you saying I'm not enough for you? That you had to go find a pair of porno stars to fulfill some deranged fantasy?” His lips thinned with anger as he crossed his arms and waited for an answer.

Now Nina laughed until tears started rolling down her cheeks. “Alex and Xan have been a lot of things,” she said through her laughter, “but porno stars? I doubt it.” Then the rest of Greg's words registered, and her amusement died as she regarded him with searching gravity. “And it's not a deranged fantasy to love more than one person at a time.” She stared at him, hating the prejudice he was showing, hating the way she could almost swear she could hear her heart shattering at the evidence of a mind closed to possibilities. She'd hoped he'd be more open than this, but it appeared she'd been sadly mistaken. “It's a reality I've lived more times than you have a right to know.”

“Damn it, Reina,” Greg exploded. “I thought we had an understanding. You're mine, and I don't share.” His distrust chilled his hazel green eyes with reserve.

“I'm no one's property,” she shot back. “My father tried to beat me into thinking I was his, to starve or slave as he chose; he might've scarred me for life, but he never owned me. I'm not about to let you start.”

“Don't twist what I say.” Frustrated, Greg ran a hand through his stylishly layered, in-need-of-cutting, brownish-black hair. Clearly struggling for calm, he took a deep breath. “I only meant that I thought you and I weren't seeing anyone else.”

“I'm not, but even so, I've never promised you exclusivity,” Nina stated coldly, enunciating every syllable, as old self-preservation habits resurrected themselves and began to weave protective walls around her breaking heart. “I've never promised anyone that, not even Alex and Xan. I've never had to. Either you trust that I'll be faithful while I'm with you or you don't.”

“I'm supposed to just accept that you won't cheat on me?”

“How am I to know that you won't, other than to take you at your word?” she retorted.

He started to argue the point, then, clearly failing to come up with a suitable counterargument, gestured in frustration. “So, what the hell did that kiss mean?”

“In the grand scheme of things?” Deliberately, she shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Sure as hell looked like it meant something to me.”

Nina tilted her head and looked at Greg searchingly. “Alex and Xan are old lovers; I won't deny that, but they're not in love with me. I wouldn't put those kinds of chains on them even if I was in love with them.”

“Is that why you won't marry me? You want the freedom to be with whomever you want, whenever you want?” Greg lashed out. “That's not the woman I thought I knew. I thought you wanted one person, someone you could grow old with and be happy.”

“I do,” Nina snapped. “That hasn't changed.”

“Then why were you kissing another man if you didn't love him?” Now, Greg sounded more bewildered and hurt than angry.

“I don't have to explain myself to you. You don't know me as well as you think.”

“Oh, I think you owe me some explanation. You're my fianc e, and I know you better than you think I do.”

“That's where you're wrong. I haven't said yes yet, and at the rate this is going, I don't think I will.” A small voice in her head warned her she might be burning her bridges, but she ignored it as she usually did. Telling herself it was better she broke her own heart now than let Greg shatter it more later, Nina pulled the door open. Her voice held only cold anger as she declared, “Now, I suggest you leave before I call Security to have you removed. You can leave your key with the front desk.”

Greg stared at her. “Fine,” he bit off. “You want to live like a slut, go right on ahead. See if I care.” He stomped out of the room, and Nina let the door shut behind him.

Drawing a deep breath against the pain of his leaving, Nina closed her eyes. She had gotten what she wanted, so why did she feel like crying?

Nina woke abruptly the next morning to the scent of immortal presence. With a startled jerk, she tumbled onto the floor as the cushions of the couch gave way. The impact only served to remind her that she hadn't slept well at all. What little she'd slept had been filled with twisted dreams. Moving on automatic pilot, she rolled to her feet, grabbed her sword from the bag on the inside of the door, and called out, “Go away.”

“We're not leaving until you talk to us,” Xan responded.

Alex added calmly, “And we're going to stand outside the door and talk to you until you let us in or Security comes to see what all the noise is. It's entirely up to you, Nina.”

For a full minute, Nina hesitated. Though she could count the number of people she trusted enough to call friend on one hand, she'd learned early to keep her distance and her private life private. It wasn't easy for her to abandon the habits of a lifetime and let someone in on her problems, even if that someone was one of her oldest and closest friends.

“We're not going away,” Alex repeated. “Now, if you want the entire floor to know your business, then that's completely your choice, but –”

Sighing, she pulled open the door, cutting off his words. Alex and Xan were quite capable of carrying on a conversation through a locked door, and she'd long ago learned that it was better not to push them. Silently, she gestured them into her room, then shut it behind them once they'd entered. Putting down her sword, she turned to face them as they took up the same seats on the couch they'd occupied the night before. “It doesn't matter. Greg is no longer a part of my life. It's what I wanted anyway.” The last words came out on a half-sob, and she swallowed hard, blinking past the tears.

Automatically, Xan rose to put an arm around her. “Oh, Nina,” he said softly, sympathetically.

She closed her eyes and turned into the warmth he offered her as Alex, too, rose to comfort her.

Before he could get to her, though, the phone rang. For a moment, Nina hesitated, unwilling to answer it, then silently shook herself. Only emergency calls were routed to her suite if it was before ten o'clock in the morning; all others were routed either to one of her staff or to her voicemail. Meeting Xan's worried eyes, she gently stepped back and waved off Alex, then crossed the room to pick up the phone on the dresser on the opposite wall.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled on her best-composed persona and forced a smile to her lips. As she picked up the phone, she saw from the caller ID display that it was the Front Desk calling. “Good morning, this is Reina,” she greeted.

A distressed female voice came on the line. “This is Mary Dulfer, the front desk operations supervisor. I'm very sorry to bother you, Ms. Sanchez, but we cannot find Mr. Torinson,” she said, referring to the hotel's general manager. “All other management personnel are either off duty or otherwise unavailable at the moment.”

“What's the problem?” Thinking it would be a simple case of an overly irate guest, Nina relaxed slightly.

“A Mr. Neal McKay is here from the Internal Revenue Service. He has a court order to shut the hotel down, and he's given us until eight o'clock tonight to relocate all of the guests to other facilities.”

“What?!” Nina couldn't help exclaiming. Pushing her own emotions aside, she took a deep breath. “I'll be down shortly to take care of this, Mary.”

“Thank you, Ms. Sanchez, and I apologize if I woke you.” Gratitude and relief mingled in the other woman's voice before she disconnected the line.

“What's going on?” Xan wondered.

“I don't know all the details yet,” Nina answered distractedly as she quickly changed clothes and tried to look professional rather than heartbroken. “But I'll let you know.” She grabbed the leather bag that served as her briefcase and concealment for her sword, then headed downstairs.


	3. Chapter 3

_Flynn's House  
Sunday_

“The order turned out to be legitimate,” Nina told Flynn, finishing up her story, “and after talking it over with our corporate lawyer, we closed the hotel and relocated all of our guests, but it took a day longer than we'd been allotted. Thankfully, we weren't booked solid, but we were at above average occupancy, and coordinating all the guests into other hotels took time.”

“And where were the mad twins?” Flynn asked gently, referring to Alex and Xan by the family nickname.

Nina looked mildly uncomfortable. “I lost track of them in all the hassle,” she admitted.

“No,” her companion corrected her, “you avoided them, and then packed before you could get grilled by them.” He studied her a moment in the growing evening shadows of the kitchen. Not for the first time, he contemplated how much easier it might've been to teach a less stubborn woman the truth about interpersonal relationships, and how he shouldn't have relied so heavily on Amanda to get Nina past her fear of intimacy. He'd known, though, that he was, in his own way, as prickly as a cactus when it came to letting other people get too close.

Nina sighed. “I didn't want any questions, especially after Greg talked to me.”

“He talked to you?”

The brunette nodded. “He was so professional it hurt to listen to him. He said he'd heard about the closure of the hotel, and offered me a position at La France. I told him I wasn't sure if I could work for him under the circumstances, but I'd give him an answer at the end of the week.”

“Do you want to work for him?”

Nina offered him a half-smile. “I don't know,” she said honestly. Exhaling heavily, she added, “All I know is that I want to be with him, get him to open his mind a little more. I could show him so much he never dreamed.”

“You can't change someone just because you love them. It doesn't work that way, Nina.”

“I know that,” she snapped. “It's just… he's a country boy underneath all that city veneer. Sometimes, I just want to shake him, tell him that there's more to this world than he's ever experienced, and other times….” Her voice drifted off as she stared past Flynn at something only she could see. For a moment, the American woman looked very much in love. “Other times I'm grateful that he hasn't gotten that jaded, and that there are things that are new to him, things that he's only heard about or read about but never thought he'd experience.” She paused, then laughed softly. “He found my sword one day and was absolutely thrilled I'd found such an authentic prop. The look on his face when I told him it wasn't a prop was priceless.” She met Flynn's worried gaze. “I told him I was holding on to it for a friend in the antique business, but.…” Her voice trailed off and she hugged herself. “I never had to explain my sword to a lover before, not anyone that counted.”

“You'd trust him with your life?”

She bit her lip, closed her eyes briefly, and then nodded. “I already do.”

Flynn sighed. He wasn't sure if he wanted to get that statement clarified, but he knew that watching his student brooding about it wasn't on his top ten list of fun things to do. “Tell you what,” he told her. “Why don't we go out, see if you still can act like a _kamaaina haole,_ and not embarrass me? I'd hate for my buddies to think I brought a tourist to the best grind this side of the island.”

“What buddies?” Nina retorted, sounding relieved Flynn hadn't pressed her for details. “I thought all you had were enemies. And I'm a better _kamaaina_ than you'll ever hope to be. At least I look like I've some native blood in me.”

“Well, if that's the case, you can buy your own beer,” he drawled. “And I'll thank you not to pickpocket the money out of my wallet.” As he spoke, he slapped her hand in mid-reach and forced her to drop the wallet. “I wasn't born yesterday.”

“All right, old man,” Nina parried, a smile tugging at her lips as she slid off the stool and came to her feet. “I get the hint. I'm going to get dressed.” She started for the guest bedroom, then, without turning, waved the twenty-dollar bill she'd filched from Flynn's jeans pocket at him, whistling as she left the room.

Shaking his head, Flynn called out an insult, but the grin on his face told another story. Once Nina was out of earshot, his smile faded as he picked up the phone. Generally, he didn't interfere in other people's lives, but Nina had always risked her life for him without a second thought for her own. One of these days, he was going to talk to her about that too, but for now, he'd settle for making sure she didn't screw up a chance at love.

* * *

_Tuesday  
Las Vegas_

She was dressed in wedding white, but there was blood staining the sequined gown. Greg didn't understand why she was holding, of all things, a sword, but he couldn't question the sense of rightness to that vision. Her face was stained with tears as she argued, “There's nothing for me here now.”

“Please, don't leave,” he begged her. “I've talked to the general manager at La France, and he agrees that we should hire you to be my partner.”

She chuckled harshly. “What, you want me to work with you when you can't accept who I am?”

With a sinking feeling, Greg realized that they were replaying the argument they'd had the last night he'd seen her. “I told you I've thought it over.”

“You'll respect me professionally, but you'll question my morals, my ethics, and my way of living? I don't think you're that good at separating those.”

“Then, damn it, Reina, teach me. I want to be with you. I love you.”

She smiled sadly at him as the dream abruptly shifted into memory and the sword dissolved into the keys she handed the security officer at the front desk of the hotel. “Then trust me a little and let me think about it for a while.” She took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, suddenly looking far older than the twenty-something woman he knew her to be. The melancholy weariness she didn't let show was now readily apparent as she stood just outside of arm's distance and seemed to absorb every detail of his appearance with eyes brimming with tears.

“Reina?” he asked, concerned.

As if she'd been holding herself back, she abruptly flung herself at him and kissed him like there was no tomorrow. Automatically, Greg wrapped his arms around her, noting as he always did how right she felt against him. Disregarding that they weren't exactly alone with the guard standing off to his right, Greg began to kiss her back with equal fervor. The moment he started to kiss her back, though, she vanished into thin air and he was left holding a bloodied sword.

With a start, Greg woke up. That wasn't how that happened, was his first thought. Tossing off the covers, he rubbed the back of his neck tiredly, then spent a moment stretching, then yawned and got out of bed. Following the scent of coffee, he thanked the creator of automatic drip coffeemakers with timers and went to pour himself his first cup of coffee. The dream bothered him, but he figured he'd been thinking of Reina when he'd gone to sleep.

As the first rush of caffeine started to kick in and he began to get dressed for work, it dawned on him that he hadn't heard from her since Saturday. It wasn't like her not to respond promptly to professional concerns; she'd always been punctual where work was involved. Moreover, he'd assumed that she'd gone to stay with Mahila, but she'd never confirmed directly that was the case. Pouring himself another cup of coffee, Greg reached for the cordless phone he'd left charging on its wall cradle in the kitchen and, after consulting the employee directory he'd kept from his days at The Grand Illusion, dialed Mahila's cellular phone number.

“Hello?” the Pakistani woman greeted sleepily.

“Sorry to wake you, Mahila,” he apologized. “This is Greg Gargorlio. How are you?”

“Tired,” came the honest answer. “I'm not used to getting this much sleep, but I won't start at my new job until Monday.” Sounding more awake by the word, she asked, “Something I can help you with, Mr. Gargorlio?”

“Actually, yes. I was hoping that Reina was with you.”

“No,” came the startled reply. “She asked me to book her on a flight to California; I thought she was going to visit Mr. Daniels and Mr. Morgan.” In a puzzled tone, Mahila asked, “She didn't tell you goodbye?”

“No.” Greg took a sip of his coffee, feeling as though he was going to need every bit of caffeine his body could stand. “You were expecting her to?”

“Oh yes,” Reina's former assistant said blithely. “She's always dumped the ones who were getting too close. Besides, I think she's in love with Mr. Daniels; she was so thrilled to see him.”

Greg's eyes narrowed as he flinched at Mahila's carelessly spoken words. He knew she would only see it as protecting Reina, no matter what the cost, but still, the words hurt. “You wouldn't happen to know how to get in touch with him, would you?” he asked dangerously.

“Oh, but you really shouldn't be so upset,” Mahila tried to soothe him. “Ms. Sanchez loves her career.”

Taking a deep breath, Greg forced calm into his voice. “If she wants to continue having one, I need to get in touch with her. If she's with Mr. Daniels, then I'd like to have an opportunity to speak to her about a position open at La France.”

Instantly, Mahila's tone changed. “Oh, you didn't say that. Hold one moment while I dig out my daily planner.”

Greg heard a slight thunk, then rustling noises in the background, as if Mahila had put the phone down while she went hunting for her planner. “Here it is,” she muttered, half to herself. In a more normal tone, she told Greg, “You're lucky that I always ask everyone for their business cards so I have a file of contacts in my planner. I have Mr. Daniels's business card. Would you like the phone number?”

“What's the company?” he asked suspiciously. Granted, business cards could be printed by anyone with a computer and a printer these days, but in what kind of business would a guy like Daniels be? Somehow, Greg doubted it was anything with substance.

“Morgan Daniels Limited is what it says here, but I'm not sure what they do. I don't remember if Mr. Daniels ever explained to me or not.” With efficient precision, Mahila rattled off the phone number, added in the address for good measure, then paused. A measure of sympathy, perhaps even regret for her earlier words, carreid through her voice when she spoke again. “May I ask a personal question, Mr. Gargorlio?”

Though he didn't feel like laughing, he chuckled; he'd known Mahila for two years, joked with her, and she still insisted on formality when it came to personal questions. “Sure.”

“What happens when Ms. Sanchez does tell you to get lost? You're not the first man to want to marry her, you know, or to offer her a job elsewhere.”

“I'm not going to let that happen.”

Mahila sounded amused as she said, “Then I wish you luck. Did you need anything else from me?”

“No, thanks, Mahila.” He disconnected the line, then took another drink of coffee. A glance at his watch told him he had exactly twenty minutes to get to work, but strangely, he felt uncompelled to go. He didn't recognize the mood that was building within him, only that he needed to do something, and he didn't need any California poster boy blocking his path to Reina.

* * *

_Early morning  
Wednesday_

“Come on, Nina,” Flynn called as he stood, perfectly balanced on one pointed toe, on the narrow wooden railing of the pier. “You remember how to do this, don't you?”

Standing on the sand below, Nina craned her neck up and shaded her eyes from the rising sun in order to see the sometime acrobat. The last thing she'd expected to see was this; Flynn had been his usual carefree self from the time they'd gone out on Sunday. Though she knew he was capable of pulling crazy stunts like this one, she hadn't expected him to pull one this morning. “Just because I remember,” she called back, “doesn't mean I want to do it.”

“What are you afraid of?” Flynn shot back. “You've done this in a dress with a tighter skirt than the one you got on.”

“I've also gone dancing naked in Times Square at noon, but you're not getting me up there.” She folded her arms. “You'll dare me to do a full routine on that strip of wood like it was a wire or a balance beam, and I'll find myself in the ocean through no fault of my own.”

He considered this a moment, then shrugged. Easily, he did a back handspring off the pier and, twisting his body in the air, landed on the sand to face Nina. “You're not any fun,” he complained, half-seriously. “What happened to the girl who swore she was going to live forever having fun?”

“I haven't changed,” Nina retorted. “I just know when not to get involved.”

“Oh, really? So why is it that almost every head you've taken has been someone who's been mad at me?”

“I'm easier to find?” she asked, donning her best innocent look.

He glared at her. “Try again.”

“Because no one can find you?”

“Sorry, but you're wrong again, and you don't get a 'Get out of Jail Free' card, either.” Sighing as he slowly shook his head, he regarded her a moment before he spoke. “You're not repaying me anything by risking your life needlessly, taking challenges on my behalf. If someone's mad at me, send him my way and tell him to leave you the hell alone. And I talked to Amanda the other night – she said you took a challenge for her and nearly died three years ago? What the hell was that about? I thought I taught you better than that. You're not worthless. You never have been, no matter what your father tried to make you believe, and you ran away rather than let him crush you. What happened?”

His former student dropped her gaze and moved restlessly away. “I don't know.”

“Bullshit.”

She stared at him, the succinct curse apparently surprising her. “What do you want me to tell you?” she demanded, gesturing and turning her palms up. “I play the Game with the cards I'm dealt. I always have. You have got to stop pissing people off with your jokes.”

“Don't give me that, Nina. I know your loyalty to your friends is admirable, but you don't have to kill yourself to prove it.”

“Believe me, I'm not trying to. I can't help it if the idiots decide that I'm an easy target and decide to challenge me instead of hunting you down.”

“Then explain Jade to me.”

“That was for me, and I don't want to talk about that one.” She crossed her arms and looked away.

“All right,” he acquiesced readily. He'd heard the rest of the story from Amanda, and there were things other than Nina's side of that story that he was more interested in knowing. “Then tell me why you're running from love. Why every time someone gets close to you, you head for the hills and wind up on my doorstep, or Amanda's.”

She bit her lower lip and continued to look at the ocean. Flynn shifted position, getting more comfortable as he waited.

Clearly fighting tears, she said finally, “You made it look easy. You were already almost fifteen hundred when I met you, and Amanda a little over a thousand, and both of you didn't have to figure out how to love anyone. You just loved each other with no promises, no reservations, and no strings. I… I didn't have that growing up. I didn't know love could be like that. Amanda helped me see that sex could be enjoyable and fun, but I never got the impression that love and commitment were all that important. Love is something other people sometimes share with me, but it's never been anything I've had for myself.” She took a deep breath. “With all the stuff about being immortal, I never wanted to get too involved with anyone who couldn't understand that, who needed me to explain that. It just seemed… easier not to let anyone in too close. If I didn't have to explain anything, I didn't have to get too close and fall in love.”

“Why are you so afraid?” Flynn asked gently.

“Because this time, I want to get too close. I want to explain everything. And I'm scared he's still too much of a country boy to understand. I'd rather break my heart and go on loving other immortals than risk everything for Greg.”

“You're not going to know the result until you face him, Nina.” He took a deep breath. “You think I let just anyone see me all serious like this?”

That made her chuckle and she turned to face him. “No,” she answered, hugging him gratefully. “But you're my teacher.”

He smiled, hugging her back and then releasing her. “I didn't have to be,” he pointed out. “I made a choice.” He let that sink in a moment before he added, “Love is a gamble no matter what you do or what kind of love it is, but life is the most fun when it's risky. Now, I know you're a gambler; you learned to play poker from Januz and you were a dealer at Amanda's saloon in San Francisco. Are you going to place your bet or fold just because you're scared of losing? I've watched you play out a bluff better than anyone I've ever taught. Remember that poker game in 1944 we played with all those guns pointed at our heads?”

That brought her chin up, as Flynn had suspected it would. She started to reply, then chuckled ruefully instead. “Just because I fell off the high wire doesn't mean I shouldn't get back on it, is that what you're saying?”

Flynn's grin grew wider. “You've worked without a net before, Nina,” he reminded her. “Why should telling Greg how you feel about him, who you really are, be anything different?”

She glared at him. “It doesn't make it any less terrifying either way. Like I told you a long time ago, I'm a magician's assistant, not a high-wire acrobat.”

“You learned, didn't you?”

A half-embarrassed, slightly smothered laugh, accompanied by a slight ducking of Nina's head, was his reply.

“Then go home and talk to Greg,” Flynn urged her. “Come on, I'll help you pack.”

* * *

_Sacramento, California  
Mid-afternoon  
Wednesday _

“Where is she?” an angry male voice demanded as he pushed past the protests of the office manager and into the office where Alex sat, going over the plans for a high-profile security installation.

At the same time, Alex heard the office manager say, “I'm sorry, Mr. Daniels, but he was most insistent. Shall I call the police?”

Without looking, he said calmly, “No, thank you, Helen, it's all right.” Unruffled by the sudden visitor, Alex took the time to finish the calculations he was making based on the engineering plans. To his visitor, he added, “Please, have a seat. Glowering over me will not get your question answered any sooner.”

Alex didn't need to look up to know that his visitor would probably choose to continue standing. He'd do the same under similar circumstances, and had. In the time it took the Greek immortal to figure out that the engineer who'd drawn up the plans had miscalculated by an eighth of an inch, he heard the stiff leather of the guest chair creak ever so slightly He was mildly disappointed by that sound, and hid a frown before he looked to see whether his visitor was indeed seated.

He saw Helen, the fifty-something Chinese woman who ran the office for both his security firm and Xan's house renovation company, standing a few feet behind his uninvited guest, waiting for his signal as she stood just on the inside of the door. With a slight shake of his head, he silently told her he had everything under control. The look of skepticism on her face informed him exactly what she thought of his opinion, but she nonetheless exited. He bit back a grin and focused his attention on his guest.

Though it had been a little over a week since he'd seen him, Alex recognized his visitor. For a moment, Alex wondered how Greg Gargorlio had been able to track him down – and then remembered that he had given Mahila his business card. He noted that unlike the last time Alex had seen him, Greg was wearing small, gold-wire-rimmed glasses, which led Alex to believe that the other man usually wore contacts.

Leaning back and getting more comfortable in his chair, Alex noted that his visitor was pacing restlessly and glaring at the bookshelves. The sound he'd heard was the drop of an overstuffed laptop/overnight case. He took a moment to assess the man, guessing that he'd come straight from the airport.

Mildly, Alex remarked, “You're not going to find someone in the bookcase, Greg, though there's a very good volume on securing public buildings on the lower right hand shelf.”

That brought Greg's attention to him. Four strides brought Greg back to the front of the desk. “No,” he agreed, his tone still belligerent, “but I bet you know where she is.”

Steepling his fingers, Alex considered the question. “I might,” he allowed. He didn't, but he knew where Flynn was. Even so, Alex wasn't inclined to disclose even that much information. He hadn't appreciated being forced to leave a discussion that had resulted from something he and Xan had done, nor had his opinion of Greg risen when Nina had revealed that he was no longer a part of her life. “Why do you want to know? From what she said, I gathered that you weren't seeing each other any more.”

For a moment, the Irish-Italian looked as though he wanted to say the first thing that came to his mind, then he visibly restrained himself. After pushing his bag out of the chair and depositing it on the floor in a clear attempt to regain self-control, Greg sat down and stared directly at Alex.

“Because I love her enough to stop being a hick from Jackson, Tennessee,” Greg said quietly. “I went to Vegas to try and be a stand-up comedian. Trouble is, I can't tell a joke – but I can tell who can, and who'll leave the audience feeling like they've been cheated worse than when they lost at the slots. I'm one of the best talent recruiters in the city, and I wouldn't have gotten the chance to become one if it wasn't for Reina.”

“So you owe her,” Alex interjected. “That's not love.”

“No,” Greg agreed, leaning forward intently. “It's not. I know the difference, trust me.” He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Every time I think I know her, I find out something else, and I've been intrigued since we met. She's got me in knots and I can't sleep, wondering where she is, how she is, and if I've really fucked up and lost her for good.”

“What makes you think you have any chance of getting her back?”

“Saturday night, before she left the Grand Illusion, I talked to her and offered her a job with the hotel I'm with, La France. She promised she'd talk to me on Monday about it.”

“I wouldn't swear on her honor if I were you,” Alex said coolly.

“Oh, so are you saying I shouldn't trust her to keep her word?” Greg demanded. “She's never lied to me, and she's never promised me anything more than she could deliver. How long have you known her anyway?”

“Long enough to consider myself to be one of her closest friends.” A quick smile followed his words. “Longer than you, certainly.” He tilted his head, considering the other man for a moment before volleying the question back to him. “How long have you known her?”

“A year, but we've only been dating for the last three months. She's… she's unlike any other woman I've ever known. She's smart, beautiful, passionate, and fun to be with, but there's this sadness inside her she doesn't let people see, but it's there when you look at her and she thinks no one's watching. It's as though she's seen things other people only see in nightmares. I know she told me that when her mother died, her father just went crazy and tried to beat her to death, but I know it's more than that. I just want to hold her close and protect her against whatever those demons are. Even if I can't, I still want to make her feel like she's safe.” He paused. “I'm really worried about her. I know what I said to her, but whether she'll marry me or not, I'll still care about her. I don't want to think she's alone somewhere with no one to care about her.”

One dark eyebrow went up at those words. In a calm voice, Alex inquired, “Why are you assuming that if you're not there that no one will care?”

“Because no one else is around to,” Greg fired back. “You say she's a friend of yours. She never once mentioned you. I was beginning to think the only friends she had were the ones she made in the business, and even then, I wasn't sure if she had any. I got the impression any friends she might've had, she'd left behind in Phoenix when she ran away from the bastard who left those scars on her back.”

“Distance doesn't matter when your friendship is true.”

Greg stared at him, an incredulous expression on his face. “Do you care about her at all? Can't you see how desperately lonely she is? Or are you just interested in how good she is in bed? You can't possibly be after her money, because she doesn't have much.”

“Oh, so you're interested in taking advantage of that loneliness.”

“No, damn it! I want to protect her, want to make sure she's not alone anymore! Haven't you heard a word I've said? I love her!”

“Enough to take her at her word?” Alex's tone was mild, but skepticism weighed it down. “Even if what she does makes no sense to you?”

“What the hell does that mean? What part of love do you not understand?”

The older man looked at him for a long moment. “I'm the one who's happily married; why are you assuming I don't understand love? And it's irrelevant; I'm not the one who chased the lady off.”

“If you're so happily married,” Greg said sarcastically, “then why were you kissing her?”

Alex didn't bother to hide his amusement. “Because it was my turn.” He considered the other man, then drawled, “By all means, ask the next question. This should be amusing.”

For a moment, Greg looked as though he was going to be predictable and ask what Alex's wife thought. Then his eyes narrowed. “You're not wearing a ring, and there's not a picture of a woman on your desk. Either you don't have a wife, or you're not married, or she's such an ugly fuck that you don't dare show her off.”

Alex shook his head, grinning. “Congratulations: you're wrong on two of the three counts. I am married, I don't have a wife, and he's quite good-looking. But neither of us wears a ring; good eye on that at least.”

Greg absorbed the words, shock evident in every muscle of his body. He swallowed hard once, twice. “I don't...” he started to say, then abruptly paused. Took a deep breath. “I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions.”

Alex snorted in disgust, and leaned forward over his desk. “It's a lovely apology, and I even believe you mean it. So why is it you can apologize to me, but not to Reina? Because I'm male, or because I'm gay and that makes me your inferior?” he finished derisively.

“No!” Greg said sharply, half-rising out of his chair. “I mean, I...oh hell, I'm hopeless. Look, I'm still a country boy from Tennessee, all right? It's no good excuse, but I'm trying to be less— ”

“Bigoted?” Alex interjected dryly.

“Of an all-round jerk,” the other man finished.

“Really.” Alex gave him a sardonic stare that had been known to back up Benny Carbassa when he was asking for money. “I see. Oh, do sit down if we're going to continue this.” He smiled, and there was very little humor in it. “And we are. However, to make things quite clear, Mr. Gargorlio? If I weren't a friend of Reina's, I'd have thrown you out the front door rather than trying to find out what happened.”

“And your point is?” Greg asked warily as he eased himself back into the chair.

“She seems to be miserable without you. Which means I'm willing to see what I can do to help. So.” Alex stood up, deliberately making it into one smoothly aggressive motion. He was silently amused to watch his visitor tense in reaction. “Coffee or tea? I have a feeling this might take a little while.”

It took Greg a moment to reply; it was clear he was fighting the urge to say things he might regret. “Coffee, please, no cream or sugar.”

From a tray on the credenza on the back wall, Alex poured himself a cup of coffee and then another for his guest. After handing a mug to Greg, Alex took the seat opposite him. “Now. Tell me why you broke up with her.”

“She wouldn't explain anything. Told me it was none of my business why she was kissing you, or why she was late to dinner that night.” Frustrated, Greg gestured with his free hand. “I told her she was mine.”

That got a disgusted hiss from Alex. “I imagine that went over well.”

Tired, frustrated, Greg rubbed his forehead with his left hand and snorted in self-disgust. “About as well as banning gambling on the Strip.” He took a sip of coffee, then placed the mug on the small table between the two chairs. “I'm not her father, and I don't mean I own her like something out of the nineteenth century. I just was trying to tell her that I thought we weren't seeing anybody else, that I didn't want her with anyone else but me, just like I thought she didn't want anyone else with me.” Exhaling heavily, he added, “I thought that went without saying, but I guess not.”

Alex drank a bit of his coffee while he considered, and discarded, comments. He finally settled for saying, “I don't think you could have said anything that would have set her off more thoroughly, either.” He considered the glaze on his mug as he added mildly, “You can't own anyone; the harder you try, the harder they'll look for a place to hide from you. And if you chase too hard, they'll either run…or turn on you to kill.”

Greg mulled that over for several moments as he absently sipped coffee. “I don't want to hurt her any more than I already have,” he said finally. “I offered her a job because I think she's that good, not because I'm in love with her. I don't want to push her into something she doesn't want, but I'm not sure I can wait, either. I've never been big on the whole 'if you love something, set it free' thing.” He grimaced. “In my family, I always heard that saying with the part about hunting it down and killing it.”

Alex leaned back and chuckled. “You're a comedian, not a computer programmer. There are more than two states, you know. You're going to have to accept that she has a life, too. And she wants it that way. Can you?”

“Don't think I have much choice if I want to be with her,” Greg observed with a soft, rueful laugh. He put his mug down and looked directly at the other man. “Did you ever try to stop her from leaving?”

“No.” Alex shook his head slowly. “Her father hurt her too badly; trying to hold her would have only made it worse.” He considered that for a moment, then added quietly, “At least from us, it would have. You might be a different matter.”

Greg acknowledged that with a brief nod. He finished off his coffee, then stood. “If you see her, please tell her I'm thinking of her.” He cleared his throat as though his next words were causing him trouble just thinking about them. “If she's happy, that's... that's all that I care about. I, uh, I think I'm going to head home, and....” He swallowed hard and met Alex's eyes. “Thanks.”

Without waiting for a reply, Greg grabbed his bag and headed for the door.

“Greg.” Alex stood up. “You've come this far. Some reason to stop now?”

Greg halted, his hand on the doorknob. He didn't turn, but his posture straightened slightly. “My momma taught me something a long time ago. You can't keep throwing your net around the same butterfly without tearing its wings. Reina wants freedom; she's got it. I get that.”

Alex snorted. “Yeah, yeah, but the only question I've got is whether you're planning on planting a butterfly garden? Because I'll tell you right now; if you'll fold this easily, she doesn't need you. Reina damn well does need someone for support. She won't take it from Xan and me. I think she might from you, if you convince her you want a wife, not a slave. Can you? Do you know what you want?”

The overnight bag thudded to the floor as Greg turned around. “What I want,” he said in a voice that gained strength with every word as he closed the distance between him and Alex, “is to erase the moment I walked in the door of her suite and saw her kissing you. What I want is to take away every hurt she's ever had, every scar on that beautiful freckled back of hers, every bit of sadness that's in her soul and make her believe that there's someone who'll do his damnedest to prevent anything like that from happening again. What I want is to understand why she wakes up screaming in nightmares that she'll insist were just the result of too much Tabasco sauce and bad late-night movies, why certain people make her act like she's smelled something that came out of a garbage dumpster, and why she never sleeps more than a few hours at a time. What I want is someone who'll share in my life, who'll let me share in hers for as long as we live, someone who'll complain that I hog the covers and put the toilet paper roll on backwards. What I want is the woman who laughs at my jokes even when I get screwed up in the telling of them, the one who nursed me through the worst bout of flu I've ever had and never complained, who makes me feel like I'm the best man in the world for her.”

Breathing heavily, Greg stared at Alex as they stood nearly toe-to-toe. “I don't care if you're the best damned lover she's ever had or the gayest, I'm not going to stop loving her. I don't care if she's slept with the Dallas Cowboys or if she danced naked in a Mardi Gras parade, because I realized something: I want to be, no, I will be, the only lover who matters.

“If you think I'm leaving because I'm too scared to go to her, you're dead wrong. I'm getting out of here because I can't stand another minute here with you playing Dear Abby, and if she's not here, then I have to look elsewhere. Now if you know where she is, then goddamn it, tell me. I know I fucked up and I have to apologize to her. I can't do that if she doesn't want me around, and if you know her as well as you seem to, you know she's not the kind of lady you shove into anything.”

The angry diatribe finally reassured Alex that Greg did have enough backbone to possibly be worth the trouble, although he still had doubts that the man had enough sense to pull this off. “Then I suggest you give me a few minutes to call a mutual friend or two to find out where she is.”

Greg stared at him warily, then agreed.

Stepping behind his desk, Alex pulled out his Rolodex and retrieved a phone number. Picking up the phone, he glanced at his watch, calculated the time zone difference, then dialed the long-distance number and waited for a reply.

The call was answered on the third ring. “Hello, this is Flynn. Unfortunately, I can't answer the phone right now because I've just come back from the Mirror Worlds and I'm still made up of antimatter, so if I were to pick up the phone right now, the resulting energy release would make Hiroshima look like a wet firecracker. So leave a message at the tone and I'll get back to you as soon as my component particles have been restored to their normal charges.”

“Flynn, this is Alex, and if you don't pick up the phone, Aidan is going to hear everything you _don't_ want me to tell her.” Patiently, he waited, ignoring the incredulous look Greg shot him.

A few seconds passed. Just when he thought he'd actually reached an answering machine, he heard Flynn's voice in his ear.

“Sorry, I was just walking in the door,” Flynn told him casually, but Alex had been around the Irishman long enough not to be fooled. “What was that about Aidan? Is she well?”

“She's fine, but I didn't call you to talk about my sister. Is Nina there?”

“She isn't now,” Flynn replied cheerfully. “Something I can help you with?”

“Where is she?”

“Not there, obviously, now is she?”

“Quit your double-talk, you conniving court jester,” Alex growled, “and tell me where she is now.”

“Somewhere over the Pacific, I'd imagine,” came the amused reply. “She'll be back in Las Vegas tomorrow morning. Why, are you missing her company already?”

“I always miss her,” the Greek immortal replied with a quick smile. Switching to Irish Gaelic, he leaned more intently on his desk as he continued, “But I think someone else misses her more. What the hell happened? Did she talk to you?”

“You know what the definition of bachelorette is? It's one who's footloose and fianc free.”

“So is she disqualified or not?” Alex asked none too patiently. Flynn had a way of getting on his nerves, and Greg was already straining his patience. “Bear in mind, I do have Aidan's number on the speed-dial....”

“I didn't know she was running a race,” Flynn retorted, an edge creeping into his voice. “And I wouldn't be getting mad at me if I were you. I wasn't the kissing fool.”

“Do you really think I'd have interfered with her love life if she'd bothered to even mention she had one?”

“No, but you could've asked,” Flynn pointed out reasonably. “Not that it matters all that much; she's headed back to Las Vegas to make her explanations to Greg.”

“Then she does want to see him?” Alex asked calmly. “He's sitting in my office, making a nuisance of himself and tempting me to leave pains where they'll be remembered.”

“I wondered why you decided to humor me with the Gaelic. As for Nina — when she left here, she was planning to talk to him.” The shrug Flynn made was apparent in his voice as he continued speaking. “Now whether she'll wait for him if he's gone, I can't say. I suspect she will; I've never seen her that much in love.”

“I suppose I'll leave him intact then,” Alex said evenly. “I appreciate the help, Flynn, such as it was.”

“Oh, it was all my pleasure.” Flynn disconnected the call before Alex could.

“So?” Greg demanded as soon as Alex replaced the receiver on its cradle, unaware of how close the other man was to losing his temper. “Did your friend know where she is?”

Alex carefully counted to ten in Gaelic, then Latin, and repeated it to himself in Albanian for good measure, before turning to Greg. “I'd go home,” he said quietly. “That's where she's headed.”

“Home?” Greg blurted, then caught himself. “Uh, yeah. Thanks.” He grabbed his bag and raced out the door, narrowly avoiding a collision with Xan.

Xan glanced at the departing man, having heard that from Helen that someone had interrupted Alex, before poking his head in the doorway of his lover's office. “Everything all right?”

“It is now.” Depressing the intercom button for Helen, he quickly told her to hold his calls for a while, and assured her that yes, he was aware of his deadlines and so was Xan. All that mattered now was getting his rarely unleashed temper under control, and there was only one good way to do it.

* * *

_At approximately the same time  
Somewhere between Honolulu and Las Vegas_

Sitting next to the window of the airplane, Nina contemplated resting her head against the glass and immediately reconsidered it as the jet hit a pocket of clear air turbulence. The flight was almost full, and she'd been unable to secure her preferred aisle seat. Beside her, the white-haired, plump matron in a floral-print knit shirt and coordinating polyester slacks gave a startled giggle.

“Oh, my,” the woman muttered, pressing a hand to her breast over her heart. “That gave me a tickle.”

Nina smiled; she hadn't heard anyone use that phrase in years. “Are you all right?” she asked, looking at the stranger.

“Oh, my, yes, dearie,” the woman assured her. “My Robert used to give me a bigger surprise than that, and he loved to try and surprise me all the time.” Despite her words, she was careful to breathe deeply several times, and relax deliberately. Even as she did so, she continued to speak. “I do miss that prankster, may he rest in Heaven.”

“How long were you together?”

“Thirty-one years. I was a flapper girl.” The woman's pale blue eyes gleamed with mischief. “I hear talk on the TV that nowadays, things are all loose and whatnot. Hrmph. They didn't live in 1925.”

Nina hid a smile. She remembered clearly what those years were like, and how all the fashionable nineteen-year-old women seemed to be interested in wearing as little as possible and declaring their independence from men. “My grandmother was telling me about that,” she prompted, lying for the sake of wanting to share a bit with someone who'd lived then. “She said she'd smoked cigarettes, drove her own car, and had a great time flirting with everyone she could.”

The stranger giggled, sounding abruptly young. “Oh, yes, that I'm sure she did. I know I did, until I met Robert, and he wouldn't take no for an answer.” Now the stranger's animation faded a little. A slightly sad smile tugged at her lips as she said fondly, “For three years, he courted me without pressing me into anything I didn't want to do. Finally, I got tired of him just hanging around, and told him that if he was going to be underfoot so much, he might as well marry me.” She sighed with remembrance. “I never thought I'd live without him, but God had other plans for him and me.” Chuckling softly, she added, “Imagine my surprise when I met my second husband at my son's wedding. Morgan's the father of my son's best friend.”

“Is that him on the other side of you?” Nina asked, indicating the older man who snored lightly in the aisle seat.

The woman beside her patted the man in question, who didn't stir. “Yes, that's my Morgan. Sleeps like a log through everything.” She turned to Nina. “Are you married?”

“No,” Nina answered honestly.

“You're young yet,” the stranger assured her with smile and a pat on her hand. “There's time.”

“So there is,” Nina murmured agreement, but her heart wondered if she really believed it. No longer wanting to be involved in conversation, she deliberately turned her attention to the view out the window.

Unbidden, the memory of the first day she'd met Greg flashed through her head. He'd been standing on one of the smaller stages, testing out the newly upgraded sound system. Her first thought had been that he had a voice meant for a morning radio show – pleasant, evenly toned, and masculine in a way that made her think of confidence and strength – and then she'd realized that he was nervous, for he stumbled over his lines and took too long delivering them.

Stepping into the room, Nina saw that the audience was empty save for the person she'd gone in search of: Mahila, her new assistant, who she'd been told was helping test the sound system. The slender, black-haired woman, who wore a batik-print dress, was giggling and calling out suggestions to the man on stage.

“Mr. Gargorlio, proper rain gear is not an option, it's an obligation. You're not going to wow them in the back row with advice delivered like that,” Mahila's Pakistani-accented voice rang out over the speakers. As Nina got closer, she realized the young woman held a wireless microphone as she stood in the back of the room a few feet left of center. For the moment, though, Nina ignored her, her attention caught by the man onstage.

The black dress pants he wore only served to emphasize his rangy build. A hotel logo polo shirt stretched over broad shoulders to taper just slightly at the waist. He wasn't the most attractive man Nina had ever met, but he had a definite Irish-Italian look to him combined with a lack of arrogance, and that made him far from the least handsome she'd ever met. His was a sharply angled face with strong cheekbones, a faint mustache and thick eyebrows. For a moment, Nina indulged herself in imagining how he'd look naked, then she caught herself and smiled.

“Oh, I agree,” the brownish-black haired man said cheerfully as he absently pushed a lock of hair out of his hazel green eyes. “But we haven't even gotten to the rest of the rules yet.”

“How many are there?”

“Only six more,” he replied. “Do you want to hear them or not?”

“I'd love to hear them,” Nina interjected, projecting her voice clearly across the theatre as she walked up to Mahila. “What rules are we listing?”

“The rules for bedroom golf,” Mr. Gargorlio explained a second before Mahila spoke, causing Nina to chuckle.

“Ma'am, I'm sorry, but this theatre is not open to the public at this time,” Mahila said firmly, careful not to use the microphone as she spoke. “I'm not sure how you got in, but you must leave now.”

“I'm Reina Sanchez,” Nina introduced herself, extending her right hand for a handshake. “You must be Mahila Zahir. I was told I could find you here.”

To her credit, Mahila recovered quickly, though her dark eyes and oval face reflected traces of her embarrassment. “Ms. Sanchez, I apologize for not meeting you in your office,” she said sincerely. Into the microphone, she said, “Mr. Gargorlio, the new entertainment director is here.”

Quickly, he scrambled to get off stage. “Greg Gargorlio, at your service,” he told Nina. “Talent coordinator, and ah – sometime comedian. I'm looking forward to working with you. I do hope you don't mind that we wanted to be sure that the sound system was working for tonight; it's one of the last projects Lyn, the guy who had your job, had assigned me to keep track of. Now that it's finally installed, I don't want anyone in the back row missing out.”

“No, not at all,” Nina said honestly as they shook hands. She looked directly at him and felt desire surge through her. She was mildly disappointed when he seemed not to return the attraction. With a sigh of regret, she put her attraction aside, and concentrated on getting started in her new job.

Remembering how she'd discounted Greg's attraction to her, Nina sighed. He'd treated her as though they were nothing more than professional friends, occasionally inviting her to share a meal with him in such an offhand manner that Nina didn't think twice about accepting. The day that had marked the turning point in their relationship had come after a particularly rough workday.

Greg found her sitting in the middle of the main theatre, deep in discussion with the lighting director about the control board that had shorted out and now needed replacement. “There you are,” Greg exclaimed. “I had to ask Security where you were; I couldn't find you or Mahila. Hey, Julio, how's it hanging?”

The stocky Puerto Rican grinned as he exchanged handslaps with Greg. “The ladies aren't complaining,” he returned. “Don't you know you don't work here anymore, Mr. Hotshot-I'm-the-entertainment-director-of-La-France?”

Greg smiled. “I don't have anyone like you there to torment, Julio.” Ignoring Julio's snort of disbelief, he turned to Nina. “Good evening, Reina.”

“For you, maybe,” Nina shot back. “Mahila went home sick if you're looking for her.”

“Actually, no, I was looking for you,” he told her. “I tried calling you on your cell phone, but you didn't answer.”

Nina reached for the tote bag she was never without, then swore when she saw she hadn't clipped her phone to the outside of the bag as she normally did. “Mahila usually reminds me to take it,” she admitted as she ran a tired hand through her hair. “I hate those things.”

Greg smiled. “I thought I remembered that right,” he remarked casually. “You look like you've had a bad day. Let me take you out to dinner and you can vent all you want about it,” he offered.

“I need to make a few calls to get this problem corrected by tomorrow, Ms. Sanchez,” Julio interjected, glancing at her. “If you'll excuse me?”

“Of course,” Nina responded. “Guess this is your lucky night, Greg. We had to cancel both of our main shows tonight, so I'm free.”

“What happened?”

“Our star performer has food poisoning, and we were going to put our second act on the main stage to make up for it, but there's a problem with the lighting control board we can't fix ourselves, some kind of short it looks like.” Annoyance seeped through her tone. “What I wouldn't give for just being able to throw a simple spotlight on the performer.”

Greg laughed. “Honey, this is Vegas. That would be boring.”

Caught in the midst of her annoyance, it took her a minute to acknowledge the truth of that. Chuckling, she replied, “True enough.” She started to walk up the aisle to the door as Greg fell in step beside her. “So how did you know I was in need of rescuing?”

“I didn't,” he told her. “I took a chance that you'd be free for dinner. My assistant was raving about the food at the new Mexican place in the mall; I thought we'd check it out.”

“This is getting to be a habit, you know,” Nina teased him. “This is the third time this week you've asked me to dinner.”

Greg shrugged casually, but the movement didn't hide his eagerness. “Yes, but I'm hoping that third time's the charm. So, would you like to join me for dinner?”

Smothering a chuckle, Nina shook her head at his enthusiasm. Silently, she ran a check of her evening plans: she was supposed to have met a client for dinner, but he'd cancelled, and the cancellation of the evening shows left her with a free evening. Going on impulse, she told Greg, “Why not? I love good Mexican food.”

A comfortable silence fell as they made their way to the mall, which was across the street and a quarter of a block down from the Grand Illusion. Though he didn't touch her except as necessary to keep in contact with her as they made their way through the nighttime crowd, Nina was vividly aware of Greg as he walked beside her. That awareness didn't fade through dinner.

“So what brought you to Vegas?” Greg asked as the server cleared their dinner dishes and they finished their drinks. “I've known you almost a year, and I don't think you've ever said.”

A small smile played on Nina's lips as she gave him an honest (if twenty-year-old) reply. “I wanted to be a magician.”

“A magician?” Greg asked in surprise. “I thought the answer was supposed to be 'showgirl'.”

Nina laughed. “I've never been conventional.”

Chuckling, Greg retorted, “All that means is you can't dance.”

“Care to bet on that?”

He looked at her. “I've never seen you dance, but you haven't seen me dance either, so we're even there.”

Blandly, Nina lied, “I'm a complete klutz on the dance floor.”

Eyes narrowing, he said slowly, “If I remember correctly, The Empire's a dance club, and it's on the other side of the mall.” Greg paused, thinking. “All right, you're on. Loser buys the winner dinner.”

“As long as you don't pick Mexican again.”

Greg chuckled. The meal had been one step above fast food, and a small step above that. “Not here, no.”

Ten minutes of walking later, Greg and Nina arrived in the nearest club. The dance floor was already filled with people, but not to capacity, as the live band finished a dead-on rendition of Gloria Gaynor's “Bad Girls.” Greg and Nina joined in the applause as they made their way to the outer edges of the dance floor, where a small table and two stools had been recently vacated. The band didn't pause for long, however, launching into a new song Nina recognized as a dance version of “Killing Me Softly.”

Greg smiled at Nina and gestured to the dance floor. “After you,” he invited.

Inclining her head, Nina stepped out to the floor. If he didn't think she could dance, he was going to be sadly mistaken. Once he had joined her in the crush of people, she reached up to place her hand on his shoulder. He then placed his hands on her waist. Moving to the beat, they began dancing. To her surprise, Nina found that he led very well, and moved with a fluidity of grace that made it easy for her to move with him.

One song segued into the next, and then another, and the laughter she glimpsed in his eyes told her that he'd recognized that he'd been had, and didn't mind. She could feel the eyes of the crowd on them as they kept pace with the changing rhythms and seemed to become one sensuous creature, but Nina cared less. The space between them was rapidly eroding, and she could feel Greg's erection against her as he pressed close. He made no apologies for it, and she wasn't sure if she wanted him to deny the rising heat between them. She'd wanted him for so long, but suddenly, she was acutely aware of every muscle of his body, the solidity of his chest against hers, the strength in his arms as he held her. Nor was it lost on her that they were mimicking a far more intimate dance as the female singer sang about how it was time to get romantic.

As the song drew to a close, Greg's hands moved from her waist to her hips and pulled her against him in a quick but unmistakable thrust. Shuddering, Nina drew in a deep breath, and looked at his face. He was breathing heavily, and she sensed it wasn't just from the dancing. “You all right?” she asked as the band paused to get ready for the next song.

He smiled. “Only one thing would make me feel better,” he told her huskily.

“Want to leave?”

“Not yet,” he replied as the lead guitarist announced the next song, a Chaka Khan tune, was for all the lovers in the crowd. “The bet's still on. I know you can dance fast, but can you dance slow?”

“Any way you like,” she informed him, chuckling.

The slow song was an exercise in temptation. Had anyone been paying close attention, they might've learned a trick or two in how subtle movement in rhythm could scorch two people with desire. Nina hadn't expected her relationship with Greg to change so rapidly, but she wasn't about to step back. He was handsome, he made her laugh, he danced well, he cared about his work and was more than competent at it, and he'd been the closest person to her other than her assistant. For a moment, the deep-rooted loneliness she held within her rose its ugly head and reminded her that she hadn't heard from Xan, Alex, or Connor in years. While it wasn't unusual for such time to pass, Nina preferred tos stay in closer contact. She wondered if they were still alive.

With a silent sigh, she shoved the ache away and concentrated on the mortal man holding her close. Tonight was the perfect opportunity to ease a bit of that loneliness, and Nina had rarely turned down a willing lover when she'd been interested in having one.

The song ended, and still they stood on the dance floor, caught in the sensual spell. Awkwardly, Greg cleared his throat. “Let's get out of here,” he suggested.

Thanks to a cab, it didn't take long to get from the club back to The Grand Illusion and then upstairs to Nina's suite. Still, it seemed like forever, as aware as Nina was of Greg.

Once the door was shut, Greg seemed oddly nervous. Strangely, the realization that he wasn't as confident as he'd been out on the dance floor reassured Nina. Smiling, she took a step closer and kissed him. Drawing back, she told him, “I don't bite unless you want me to.”

It took him a second to realize what she meant, and he chuckled. “I think I'll pass, thanks,” he replied, his eyes dancing with humor. “I'm not into that.”

“Then what are you into?”

He smiled wickedly. “Right now?” He kissed her slowly, thoroughly, until she was certain she'd know the feel of his mouth in the dark, the taste of his tongue as it dueled with hers. Then he pulled back but rested his hands on her hands, causing her flesh to tingle. Over and above the familiar feel of lust, Nina felt a new sensation pouring through her, and she didn't dare examine it too deeply just yet. Through passion-glazed eyes, she looked at him as he told her, “A little of that all over your body. I loved dancing with you, the feel of your body as it moved with mine. Now I want to feel the rest of you.”

Nina's mouth curved and a bright flare of desire sprang into her eyes. She moved her hands to unbutton Greg's green oxford shirt, taking the time to lick and nibble between buttons. He trembled faintly by the time she tugged the tails out of his gray casual dress pants. Pushing the shirt off his shoulders, she leaned closer to whisper in his ear, “So do I.” Then she caught the bottom lobe of his ear in her lips and flicked her tongue across the sensitive skin as she caressed the strong tendons in the back of his neck.

Groaning, he let the shirt fall to the floor before he reached between them and undid the laces of the dusky rose corset-style top she wore. She arched into his touch as he bent his head to suckle on her breasts, rousing a melting sweetness within her, but let her hands roam across his back. Her nails lightly raked up and down his skin as he pressed her closer and licked maddening circles around her nipples. Dipping her fingers lower, she reached between them to first cup his erection, then free it of the confines of both his pants and the black cotton briefs he wore.

Against her skin, she felt his mouth go still. Raising his head, he locked gazes with her. “Think you can get away with that?” he demanded huskily.

“Oh, that and more,” she assured him. Reaching behind her, she unzipped her leather skirt one handed, revealing the fact she'd skipped wearing underwear, and used the other to stroke him. The skirt fell to the floor, and, stepping out of it, she kicked it aside. Not pausing, she went to her knees to pull Greg's briefs and pants out of his way, taking the care to stroke and nibble his thighs, knees, and calves as she did so. Occasionally, her fingers would brush against his balls or his cock, but never for long.

Aroused beyond his wildest imaginings, Greg felt like his knees were going to collapse. He'd never had a lover who'd ever turned him on this quickly or this way, and it didn't seem fair. He had to turn the tables on her somehow. Tugging on her arms, he urged her upwards.

She smiled as she deliberately slid her body against his with the upward movement. His eyes glittered with desire as he took possession of her mouth again, then pulled her tight against his body. Taking up the challenge, his hands explored the soft lines of her back, her waist, and her hips. Her indrawn breath was swallowed by his kiss and the thrust of his tongue into her mouth.

Not content with just kissing her, Greg used his hands to stroke patterns over her body, dipping ever lower. Slowly, his hands moved downward, skimming either side of her body to her thighs. Hypnotized by his touch, she tingled under his calculated ministrations. One fingertip teased her clitoris before being withdrawn, and she moaned in protest. Inexorably, as if they were still dancing, Greg moved her towards the bed, his fingers occasionally sliding from her hips to stroke her intimately. The unpredictable touches sent jolts of pleasure through her. Almost as thought they were one body, he dropped them against the soft cotton of the bedspread.

She laughed softly as the mattress bounced, but he didn't give her time to think too much more about it. His tongue made a path down her ribs to her stomach, mapped out her inner thighs, then surveyed the mound in between. His tongue flickered maddeningly over her clit, making her shudder with rising desire.

Hungrily, she reached for him. “Please, Greg, I want you,” she pleaded.

Greg lingered just a bit longer before obeying the command. Rising, he fished out the condom in his wallet and put it on. Then he turned the tables on her as he slid up her body, but she could only manage a half-laugh of acknowledgement for the need choking her throat. With a slow stroke, he slid into her. Waves of ecstasy throbbed through her as she lifted her hips to meet his deliberate thrusting, then crossed her ankles around his lower back. He groaned as the new position drove him deeper into her.

Nina loved making love like this, when the lust rose within her to such a degree that she lost herself in the sheer joy of the act. It drove her, excited her, and the sheer thought that this handsome, sexy man was making love with her turned her even more. Closing her eyes, Nina let her head fall back as her emotions whirled and skidded in the familiar, pulse-pounding pleasure of passion fulfilled. Even as she did, Greg leaned forward to suckle on the juncture of neck and shoulder. Whimpering her delight, she clutched him tighter to her as he rocked back and forth with long strokes. His back arched as he tried his best to meet her rising urgency. The swift contractions of her orgasm took her by surprise, robbing her of whatever control she had left. Through the roaring in her ears, she heard Greg moan her name an instant before he began thrusting into her with shorter, quicker strokes and the passion of his ardor mounted. A heartbeat later, she felt his body stiffen with the force of his release, triggering a second wave of pleasure within her.

He wasn't content to just fade into slumber, though. Rolling sideways, he held onto her. Her thoughts, already fragmented by their spent passion, blanked out completely as his hands and lips continued to explore her body, arousing her even as they soothed her. It was a long time before either slept.

Remembering that night, Nina closed her eyes. Her affair with Greg was supposed to have been simple, uncomplicated, and best of all, fun. Her greatest fear had been that he'd learn of the true reason why she carried a sword with her at all times. She'd been confident that she could keep him from getting too close and taking her heart; after all, she had years of practice. What she hadn't expected was that he'd disarm her defenses with unexpected visits and surprise gifts. It had been as though he'd taken notes from watching her date other men, and seen how she'd found roses and chocolate clich. With a wry smile, Nina admitted that she'd said as much to him; especially when a visiting prince had tried to charm her into leaving the hotel with a lavish array of courting gifts.

The last thing she expected was to fall in love with Greg. Now she could only hope that he'd be willing to listen. She wasn't sure she could cope with telling him the truth and having him reject her anyway. Taking a deep breath, Nina reminded herself that she'd survived this long; somehow, she'd find a way. Still, she found herself praying that she wouldn't have to do so. Being with Greg was the dream she'd kept herself from having for a hundred years, believing that she was better off taking love where she could and settling for lovers of convenience rather than lovers of the heart. He'd already proven he could make her as miserable and as ecstatic as a Quickening. If he could get over his petty bigotry, Nina was certain that he would be perfect as a husband.


	4. Chapter 4

_1884  
Texas_

The circus ring was relatively quiet in the early morning hour as Nina stepped into the ring. A leather belt holding six throwing knives was strapped to her waist. Calling a greeting out to the elephant trainer in the main ring, she walked confidently towards the side ring where an oversized wooden wheel on a slightly raised platform stood. The wheel had been painted with the outline of a human form. Steel cuffs had been placed at the points where someone's wrists and ankles would be. A touch sent the wheel spinning, then she counted out twelve strides from the wheel.

Taking position at a ninety-degree angle from the wheel, she performed an aerial cartwheel. The moment her feet hit the ground, bringing her upright, she threw the first knife. It landed in the left arm of the human form painted on the wheel. Nina didn't stop to watch her progress, but turned her momentum into a one-handed cartwheel that flowed into a somersault. She threw a second knife; this one landed in the heart. She continued to tumble and throw until she had run out of knives. Just as she completed her last move, the scent of something floral but spicy hit her newly immortal senses, and she turned to find Amanda walking into the ring.

Amanda stopped the wheel and surveyed the damage. Nina had hit each of her intended targets: both arms, both thighs, the heart, and the stomach. Silently, Amanda acknowledged that Nina was better at throwing knives than she'd expected. Still, the fact that Nina was performing this particular trick bothered the older immortal. It was this very trick that had killed Nina three days previously.

"You're supposed to miss those," Amanda pointed out calmly as she drew the younger woman into a loose embrace until Nina's back rested against the front of Amanda's body.

"Januk didn't," Nina countered, but she leaned into the offered comfort. "He was aiming for me, not the wood like he should've been."

"Januk is a drunk," Amanda stated. "Stop torturing yourself with this. It's not your fault."

"I should've been faster getting out of the cuffs."

"Darling, if you'd been any faster, you'd have been superhuman."

Nina tilted her head up to look at Amanda. "Aren't we?" she asked.

Amanda chuckled briefly, then turned Nina around to face her. In a more serious tone, Amanda replied, "No. Just gifted with something special, something people would kill to have or see destroyed if they knew about it." She paused. "Why are you going through this trick anyway?"

"I wanted to know if I could have avoided dying."

"And the verdict is?"

"If I'd been faster, I might've—" Nina's voice stopped when she saw the expression on Amanda's face. Sighing, she accepted the truth. "—Still died," she finished. She looked at the woman who'd already taught her so much about life and love, and leaned in closer to kiss her. "Is it wrong to want to be sure?"

Amanda kissed her back. "No, darling. Just don't spend forever thinking about it, hmm? There are so many other fun things to think about."

"Oh, and you're going to show me?" Nina teased. "You really weren't kidding when you said you'd broaden my education, were you?"

Chuckling, Amanda kissed her again. "Of course. You're a beautiful, intelligent, sexy woman, and you deserve to know as much as the world has to offer. Life is too precious to waste time not enjoying it." Embracing her, she continued, "I hope whoever gets your heart for keeps is someone whose mind and soul are big enough for all that you are."

"I love you, Amanda."

Amanda smiled knowingly. "I love you too, Nina, but what we have won't last forever. You'll love other people in time. Shh, don't protest. I know you can't see it now, but I won't stay with the circus forever, and neither will you. There'll be a time for you to move on, and we'll both know it." Amanda kissed her slowly, reassuringly. "Besides, someday you'll want to marry some lucky guy, and he isn't going to want someone who can't love him with all of her heart."

"You're so certain of that," Nina pouted. "Isn't there anything you haven't done?"

The century-old immortal considered this momentarily. "A few things," she allowed. "Today? I haven't made love with you."

Nina's heart raced with anticipation. "I think we should change that," she murmured as she ran her hands down Amanda's back to cup her ass. Then she became serious. "If I ever marry anyone, I want him to be perfect."

"Darling, he won't be," Amanda said carelessly. "You have to show him." Then she kissed Nina until the younger woman forgot all about marriage.

* * *

_The following morning  
Las Vegas, present day_

Sighing tiredly, Greg pulled off his rain-spattered jacket and set his overnight bag down as he stepped into the foyer of the small two-bedroom house he owned. He'd been forced to fly on stand-by, since the next available flight had been booked, and then the airline had been forced to change planes due to mechanical problems. As if that hadn't been bad enough, his flight home had been delayed to the bad weather coming into Las Vegas, and he'd had to call in to work to let them know he probably wouldn't be in today.

The smell of freshly made coffee was his first clue that someone else was in the house. Although he had his coffeemaker set on a timer, he usually didn't put fresh grounds in it until right before he went to bed. Feeling a bit like one of the three bears in a fairy tale, he cautiously stepped into his bedroom. The woman he loved lay sleeping on his bed.

For a minute, Greg stood in shock, unable to comprehend how she'd gotten into his house; he'd never given her a key. He'd meant to give her one, of course. Even as he thought that, it dawned on him she'd always contrived to not need a key to his house, whereas his friendship with the hotel's security staff had allowed him easy access to her suite. Now he wondered just when she'd learned to pick locks, and what else she could possibly not have told him. If she was capable of being in a relationship with a son-of-a-bitch like Alex Daniels (and Greg couldn't see how anyone could), what kind of past was she hiding?

His heart chose that moment to shake him from his paranoia, and he took a second look at her. She'd chosen to fall asleep on top of the green paisley comforter, without taking off her second favorite pair of knee-high black suede boots. Black jeans hugged her legs and outlined her hips, while a loose, brightly patterned three-quarter-length sleeve sweater concealed her upper body from definition. Her long hair lay in loose waves, partly concealing her face since she'd rolled to her right side, curling almost into a fetal ball as she slept. To Greg's eyes, it seemed as though she was trying to protect herself even in sleep, and the sight made his heart ache.

Abruptly, she awoke, her body uncurling as if a spring had been released, then propelling her to stand before her eyes were fully open. She stared at Greg as though she didn't recognize him, and the nervous smile that spread across her lips was completely uncharacteristic of her. "Good morning," she greeted hesitantly. "I made coffee when I heard your flight was going to be late." Stretching, she started to turn the move into a hug before stopping short.

"You left," he accused her. "You weren't planning to come back."

"Why don't you get a shower and into some dry clothes before you catch a cold," she suggested calmly. "I need coffee."

Greg started to protest, but she cut him off. "Don't," she told him, holding up a hand. "Whatever you want to accuse me of doing, please, just. save it for twenty minutes. I'll be here when you get done with your shower."

Too well aware he was prone to speaking without thinking, Greg accepted the rebuke and nodded tightly.

She smiled, kissed him on his cheek, evaded his reflexive reach for her, and then headed for the kitchen. Sighing, recognizing she was right, Greg went to do as she'd asked.

Twenty minutes later, dressed in tan khakis and a hunter green polo shirt, Greg walked out into the living room. Taking the seat on the overstuffed couch next to her, he began, "I'm sorry I doubted you. I was jealous and I wasn't thinking before I spoke. I just was reacting to everything."

She chuckled faintly. "I should've told Alex and Xan I was in a relationship; they would've respected that had they known." She paused and looked directly at Greg. "But I wasn't sure of a lot of things until I left."

Hope flared within Greg. "Where did you go? I went looking for you in Sacramento, but you weren't there."

"Sacramento?" Nina asked, puzzled. "Why Sacra-oh, you didn't show up at Alex's office, did you?"

"Whatever did you see in that asshole?" Greg couldn't help exclaiming.

"An alibi," she informed him with a laugh.

"An alibi?" he repeated incredulously. "Just what kind of misspent youth have you had?"

She smiled, but the smile didn't hold as she became serious and studied him.

"Reina?" Becoming concerned, Greg reached for her hands and grasped them. "Whatever you did in your past, I'll do my best to not make judgments about those things. It doesn't matter. I love you and want to be with you."

She stared at him, her eyes searching his for something Greg didn't understand. Her hands curled into fists under his before she sighed heavily. "Before you make any promises you may not be able to keep," she warned him, "there are a few things I need to tell you."

"What, that you were the poster child for America's Most Wanted Junior Magicians? I already told you, it doesn't matter. Even if you told me that you tangoed naked in a hometown parade on a dare, I wouldn't care." At her disbelieving look, he relented. "Okay, so I would care to know why, but it's a little thing compared to everything else. I know you, Reina."

She shook her head slowly. "This isn't something that minor, Greg. I'm not who you think I am, but I have to trust that you'll believe what I have to say. I thought it wouldn't matter if I never told you, but I don't want to wait until I have no other choice. I love you, but I can't let you into my heart until I tell you the truth."

"What? What truth?"

"My name is not Reina Sanchez. I wasn't born in Phoenix. I'm not twenty-five, and I have been, on a few occasions, on a 'Wanted' poster. I've been a dealer in a saloon, a high-wire acrobat, a magician's assistant, a jewel thief, and a spy, but I've never been a juvenile delinquent. The story I told you about my father abusing me is true." She took a deep breath as Greg's grip on her hands tightened. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do," Greg said unhesitatingly.

She untangled their hands and reached into her boot to withdraw a knife. "This is one of a set of twelve throwing knives used in what was supposed to be an ultimate escape illusion. Unfortunately for me, the magician performing the trick loved his vodka. It killed me." She smiled at him, then wrapped his hand around the hilt with the point towards her. "This won't," she told him as she forced him to stab her.

She collapsed over the blade. Horrified, Greg pulled the blade out, dropping it to the floor, and tried to staunch the flow of blood as he pushed Nina's body back against the couch. Too stunned to think straight, the only coherent thought he had were that he was supposed to call someone, but he couldn't remember who, and that he'd killed his love just like in his dream of a few days past.

Then something incredible began to happen. Little bits of blue lightning stitched up the gaping wound, dancing around and through Greg's hand. It felt like he'd walked across a carpet and touched a metal doorknob. Instinctively, he lifted up his hand, shaking off the static charge. Then the lightning went to work with greater efficiency, leaving only the tear in Nina's shirt and the drying blood as evidence. With a gasp of breath, Nina revived and sat up.

"My name is Nina Williams, and I am immortal." Her voice rang with a confidence and conviction Greg had never seen her show. Even her posture seemed a world apart from Reina Sanchez, and he knew she spoke the truth. Still, he gaped at her; it was too much to comprehend at once.

"Immortal?" he repeated. He glanced at the blade still on the floor, the blood drying on his hands, and then at the place where the wound had been. Then he looked into her eyes and read the confirmation there. "My God," he breathed. "How old are you?"

"I was born in Tucson, Arizona in 1868."

"Eighteen sixty-eight? Don't you mean nineteen?"

"It might say that on one of my driver's licenses, but no, that's not what I meant." She looked at him, willing him to believe. "I learned to drive in 1910 on a dirt road in Michigan from a friend of Henry Ford. I think I went about five miles and swore I'd never ride a horse again." She laughed softly at herself, shaking her head slightly, before she refocused her attention on the stunned man beside her.

"You're not joking."

"Never about this," she answered fiercely. "I'll lie about being immortal before I ever joke about it." She rose to her feet and went to the bathroom. When she returned, she had a wet face towel, with which she proceeded to clean Greg's hands.

In silence, he watched her deal with the blood on his hands, the knife, and the stain on the carpet. Some part of his brain noted how efficient she was at all of it. He swallowed hard as the impact of that registered. Then a second, more troubling thought occurred to him. "You lied to me," he accused her. "Why?"

"Because there's a price to being immortal."

"What, you owe some mad scientist somewhere?" He gestured wildly.

A small smile appeared on her lips before quickly fading. "No, you're either born immortal or you're not. Your immortality doesn't kick in until you die the first time. Most immortals die violent deaths the first time around, though I know of someone who was poisoned. In my case, it was an accident. I was fifteen when I ran away and joined the circus; sixteen when the circus magician tried to perform a new trick involving throwing knives while drunk and killed me."

"So you have no way of knowing that you're going to live forever until you're dead," Greg said slowly, working through the logic. "What happens when you come back? You get a permanent 'Kicked Out of the Afterlife' pass or what?"

"Not entirely." Nina exhaled heavily. "There is one way I can die permanently, and that's if you cut off my head."

"But why would anyone want to do that?"

"All immortals are players in what's known as The Game. No one knows who started it or why, only that in the end, only one immortal will live to survive it. That immortal will have the Prize — all the power of all the other immortals, enough to rule the world. To get that power, an immortal must fight another immortal to the death."

"So I take it that sword you've been carrying around in that big tote bag of yours hasn't been something you kept forgetting to give to a friend of yours in the antique business."

"No, it's not. There are those who seek the Prize and stop at nothing to gain it, while others try to make sure the bad ones don't win. I'm not either of them, but I'll defend myself and my friends or die trying." She leaned forward intently as she took hold of Greg's hands. "I lied to you because it's easier to do so than to explain the truth. Reina Sanchez is just one of several identities I've had over the years, and I've gotten used to running away when someone got too close. Only a handful of people in this world know me well enough that I consider them my friends; you've met two of them. You're the first person I've ever had to explain this to who wasn't immortal." Nina took a deep breath and let go of Greg. "I love you, and I trust you with my life. Because I'm immortal, I will never bear children, never show my age, and never be able to live in one place with one identity for too many years without lying about something. Before you promise me anything, consider what that will do to your life and the dreams you have."

Greg narrowed his gaze as he considered her words. "You're afraid I'm going to leave you."

Nina stood and smiled sadly. "No, I'm sure you will." She started for the door.

He rose to his feet, stopping her with a hand on her arm. Searching her eyes, he was surprised to find himself swallowing the first words that demanded to be spoken. "Look, Nina," he began. The name felt odd on his tongue, but somehow seemed to suit her better. He watched her eyes light up with pleasure that he'd remembered to use her real name, and felt the oomph of yet another confirmation. "Maybe I haven't really thought this all over yet, maybe I'm just hallucinating this whole conversation because I've been up all night, but my feelings for you haven't changed. I'll love you until I die. It doesn't matter if you're going to live forever or die tomorrow. For all I know, I might get hit by a bus tonight."

She looked as though she wanted desperately to believe him. "Just.take some time to think about it, please, and get some rest. I'll be at The Roman tomorrow evening at seven o'clock and the rest of the week. If I don't hear from you in a few days, I'll assume you've changed your mind."

Gently, she disengaged his grip on her arm and stepped around him. Realizing she meant to escape him, he did the only thing he could do: he leaped over the side chair that was between him and the door and held the door closed with his body. Nina stared at him, her eyes wide with astonishment.

"I won't change my mind," he growled, sounding just slightly breathless from the unexpected physical effort. "Get used to it, Nina. I love you, no matter what your name is or what you are. You said you loved me. Quit running away for once in your life and face the fact that you've got someone to lean on when the going gets rough, someone who isn't in love with anyone else but you. I didn't understand what your friend Daniels was saying about you needing someone who can support you, but now I do." Greg exhaled slowly before he continued, "Do you think I'm going to run when there's danger? I might, if there's a good reason to retreat, but know that I'll want to protect you and take you with me if I could. You think I'm some country hick who can't understand you? I may not know all there is to know about Nina Williams, but I know the woman I fell in love with was someone who made me believe anything was possible. We can make this love work, but I can't do it alone. I need you. I love you."

Greg watched surprise, fear, and hope flash across her face. Blinking and drawing a deep breath, she searched his eyes as she warned him, "You might regret that in thirty years."

"So might you, but we'll burn that bridge when we get to it, not before." He looked at her. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you. Do you love me?"

Tears glittered in her eyes as she answered, "Yes." Then she kissed him, throwing her arms around him and clinging to him as he began to return the kiss.

His heart lurched with excitement and joy as she gave herself freely to the passion of their reunion. This was what he'd longed for, what he'd flown to Sacramento to find. Feeling as though he now had all the time in the world, he kissed her slowly, thoroughly, as if it was the first time. In a way, it felt as though this was the only time that mattered. She was home, the place where his heart resided, and he used their growing passion to express that sentiment.

His right hand slid from her hip to her back, sliding underneath the waist-length curtain of hair. His fingertips brushed the outline of one of the scars. Abruptly, he froze as he realized she hadn't scarred when the knife had gone through her body. What had been a reminder of the pain she'd once endured now took on an entirely new meaning. She had really died on his couch. No elaborate Vegas show trickery had been employed, no fake blood, and the pain he'd felt had been as real. Suddenly revolted, he shoved her away.

Stunned, Nina quickly regained her balance and then stared at him. "What's wrong?"

"You're not human. How the hell do you have scars on your back and no scars from the knife you made me put into you?"

"It's a side effect of being immortal. Any scars from before I died the first time remain with me; anything after that doesn't. at least not physically."'

Breathing heavily, he looked at her. "You've died before. You make it sound like it's nothing. It's not."

"Of course it's not," Nina snapped. "You think it's easy? It's not. If you can't handle me being who I am, then I'll go right now and you can pretend that I was some insane woman." She started for the door, only to be stopped by Greg.

Greg tried to comprehend her explanation, his mind scrabbling for some kind of logic to it, and failed. But while his mind might not have anything solid to hold onto, his hands were another matter. "Don't go," he pleaded, speaking quickly as he grabbed her. "I just want to understand. I've never known anyone like you before, never loved anyone like you, and it scares me."

She stared at him, then glanced down at his grip on her arm. "Maybe," she offered quietly, "we ought to talk about this some more before we go any further."

He nodded, swallowing. She straightened her top, then favored him with a small smile. "I don't know about you, but I could use something to eat."

"I'd like that."

Standing in the kitchen, propped up against the doorframe, Greg watched Nina cook omelets with cheese and bacon, and realized he'd never before watched her cook anything for him. It made him realize that for her, being immortal was as ordinary as the eggs in the pan. The enormity of that gave him pause, but he knew that if he wanted her in his life, that he had to accept there was a lifetime of things he didn't know about her. The only way to start finding out, though, was to ask questions. Drawing a deep breath, he asked, "So when did you learn to cook?"

She glanced at him as she expertly flipped the omelet to let the other side cook. "I honestly don't remember," she told him. "I grew up on a small ranch; my parents taught me everything I needed to know about keeping it running. At least, I thought they were my parents; I didn't find out until after my father tried to beat me to death that I'd been found abandoned on the church steps." She shrugged easily. "I loved them as my parents." Reaching for a plate, she slid the now-cooked omelet onto it and handed the plate to Greg before she began making a second omelet. "All I know for sure is that the ranch wasn't doing well by the time my mother died, and then my father went crazy."

"Did you ever go back and talk to him?"

Nina shook her head. "What was the point? The man tried to kill me. I joined up with the circus that was in town that week, and we headed out towards St. Louis a day after I joined. I never looked back." She paused to glance at Greg. "I was too busy the first six months just trying to learn enough Albanian to understand Januz when he was drunk so I could understand the tricks he was trying to perform. He was the magician, and I learned how to be first his assistant, then an illusionist in my own right. I also learned how to muck out a stall, put up a tent, walk the high wire, and anything else I could; I was so hungry for knowledge, and nearly everyone was willing to teach me. The circus became my family, especially Amanda and Flynn."

"Who were they?" Greg asked as he took a bite of his omelet. The name Flynn sounded familiar, but he wasn't placing it just yet.

Nina chuckled. "My first teachers as an immortal, but I knew them first as the Amazing Amanda and the Fearless Flynn. They were a high-wire act, among the best I've ever seen. I didn't know that they would be my teachers when I met them; telling other people about immortality isn't something we do often, and we don't always tell the people who will be. Amanda and Flynn always told me it's dangerous to have knowledge, especially knowledge that makes you fear nothing and try everything. In hindsight, I'm not surprised that they didn't tell me they were immortal until after I'd died, but my first reaction to finding out that they could tell I would become immortal was one of the few times I've really lost my temper. I didn't think it was fair that they knew but said nothing." Her eyes glittered with the memory. "Amanda said she'd thought I'd had enough to deal with just trying to heal the scars my father had made. Knowing I could've died and gotten the hell out there sooner.. Well, let's just say I entertained that fantasy up until the first time Flynn killed me, and I found out how bad dying is when you know you'll recover."

She paused a moment, taking the opportunity to flip the omelet and take a drink of water.

"No light at the end of the tunnel?" Greg joked weakly.

Nina shrugged. "Maybe for some people, but it's just blackness and pain and then the feeling of having all the air in my lungs shoved right back into me, sort of the reverse of having the wind knocked out of me." She shot him a wry look. "I can feel everything knitting together that got hurt, and all my senses are overloaded the first few seconds from trying to reestablish everything. The longer I've been dead, the worse it gets."

"How can you be so calm about everything?"

"Because I've had over a century to get used to it," Nina replied gently. "Because I had good teachers who didn't let me stay depressed for long about my fate, who taught me to find the joy in living, seize it, and milk it dry whenever I can. I'm not saying I don't have days where it all gets to me, but when I think about how I could've died, never having experienced all the things I've gotten to experience.. I can't picture it. I knew I wasn't going to be a ranch girl the rest of my life."

"I didn't want to be a garbage man like my father," Greg offered, his tone conveying understanding. "He thought I was crazy to come here." After taking a few more bites of his omelet, Greg continued, "This Flynn, is he still around?"

Nina nodded. "I went to visit him in Hawaii when I left here."

"Hawaii's a long way from here." Greg narrowed his eyes as the name clicked in his mind.

"That was the point. I needed somewhere that you wouldn't be able to find me easily."

"With you?" Greg half-laughed. "I didn't know where to look, other than start with those guys."

Nodding, she smothered a chuckle at the emphasis he placed on his reference to Alex and Xan. "Sorry about that, but I've learned not to take chances. Technology makes it so much easier to find people these days."

"It is scary," Greg agreed. "What about Amanda? Is she still around?"

Nina nodded again. "I've sometimes wondered how those two manage it. Amanda and Flynn have a talent for attracting attention to themselves." She laughed softly. "Not always in a good way, either. Amanda has some definite ideas about personal property, and Flynn. well, Flynn was a court jester at some point in his long life, and there's good reason why he got booted out of court."

"You love them a lot, even if they might be trouble."

She chuckled freely now. "Oh, they're trouble all right, but they made me believe I was capable of living as long as they have." She looked at him. "The price for living forever is being hunted by others of my kind, taking challenges and fighting for my life."

Greg put his plate down on the counter. "I keep looking at you, and I can't see you fighting anyone." He crossed the small kitchen and hugged Nina as she transferred the omelet from the frying pan to a plate. "I don't want you to fight anyone. I just want to hold you and damn the rest of the world."

Turning in his arms, Nina kissed him lightly while setting the plate down on the counter off to their right. "I think I can manage that for a while," she promised him. A quick flick of her right hand shut off the burner on the stove, then that hand snaked up to meet the other one as it pressed gently against the back of Greg's neck, encouraging him to meet her kiss halfway. Greg didn't resist the invitation as he kissed her back and then upped the ante, using his hands to bring her hips closer to his as he backed them against the refrigerator. Thus braced, he deepened the kiss, relishing her unrestrained response to him.

Even as she threw herself into the passionate embrace, Nina was haunted by the nagging sense that the world wasn't as perfect as it should be. Telling herself the world was never perfect, she did what she always had: lived in the moment, and worried about the consequences later.

_Three days later_

The phone rang just as Nina entered Greg's house, carrying an armload of groceries. Setting the bags down, she caught the phone just before it rolled over to the answering machine. "Gargorlio residence, hello?"

"I guess this means you made up with him," Xan greeted.

She laughed softly. "You shouldn't worry about me."

"I care about you; it comes with the territory. Everything all right?"

"Of course it is. Why shouldn't it be?"

"Nina," Xan warned. "You don't want to have this conversation in person, do you?"

"I'm fine," she assured him. "Tell Alex to quit worrying too. I'm happy. I'm getting married."

"You can tell Alex to quit worrying when you call and say hi. We are invited, right?"

"Of course you are," Nina told him, chuckling. "I wouldn't let you miss it for the world."

Xan snorted. "Stay in touch, butterfly," he advised, his tone warning her that she'd better do so or else.

She laughed lightly and bid him goodbye, but the reminder that things weren't as patched together as she wanted to them to be stayed with her.

In the false light of early dawn, Greg woke abruptly and rolled over to find the bed empty. Sighing, suspecting he knew exactly where his lover was, he spent a moment stretching, then padded out to the living room. Three weeks had passed since he'd learned the truth; though Nina had moved in the next morning, she'd yet to answer either of his proposals. He was beginning to wonder if she would. She seemed oddly content just to spend her time with him, or waiting for him to return from work.

As had become her custom, she sat in the center of the living room floor in a meditative pose, her eyes closed and her breathing even. From the first disastrous night, Greg knew not to approach her from behind, so he cut through the pass-through kitchen to come around to kneel on the carpet in front of her.

"Another nightmare?" he asked quietly.

A faint smile traced her lips. "Not tonight, no." She shrugged easily and opened her eyes. "Go back to sleep; you have to go to work in a few hours."

Greg shook his head and drew her into his arms so that she lay cradled against his chest. "It's Saturday. I have the day off."

"An entertainment director with a Saturday off? What's the world coming to?" she teased him, aware that he normally worked a fifty-hour week.

He chuckled softly. "I don't know." Gently, he brushed a stray lock of hair away from her eyes. "How do you manage to deal with all the changes?"

"How do you?" she countered, knowing that he meant over her lifetime. "If there's one thing I've learned, it's that life is full of changes."

"Yes, but." Greg struggled to find the words. "I see you, I don't see the things you've lived through. I only see a beautiful, intelligent, strong woman who looks like she's in her early twenties. I can't comprehend the things you've been through, or the things that make you wake up in the middle of the night like this and look so sad. I just want to hold you and keep you safe."

She turned in his arms. "You can't. Not all the time, not against the things that would hurt me the most."

Greg looked at her. The instinct to say something, anything, was strong, yet he held it back, though only for a moment. "Don't do this to me, Nina. Don't shut me out. I love you."

"Do you really?" she asked sadly. "What if I asked Alex and Xan to the wedding? Would you be jealous? Would you think that all the friends I invite were old lovers?"

Jealousy shot through him, but Greg fought it, reminding himself that she was far older than he was, and more likely to have a bigger past. He'd meant what he'd said to Alex; he wanted to be the only lover that mattered. That desire overrode his jealousy and kept his voice calm. "Are they?" he returned. "I can't see where they all would be. You may be a century older than me, but I've never been able to keep all of my exes as friends, and never known anyone who did." He paused only to swallow past a dry throat, and laid a finger on her lips when she started to speak. "I don't care if you're the only person I know who managed that feat. I love you and I want to be with you. Tell me what you're thinking, teach me how to be with you, let me be the strong one for you." He drew her closer. "God knows I'm not perfect, but you make me think I can be."

Nina closed her eyes, unable to cope with the emotion flooding through her. "I want to believe that," she told him, swallowing hard and blinking past the sudden rush of tears.

"Then what's stopping you?"

She half-smiled. "Me," she said honestly. "I love you, but I'm scared you're not going to be there when I need you most."

Greg looked at her, feeling more serious than he'd ever felt in his life. "Then give me the chance to prove that I will be."

For a long moment, she said nothing as her eyes met his, then she took a deep breath. Opened her heart, and took a chance. "Okay."

Greg smiled, his shoulders relaxing visibly. He then leaned forward and kissed her. "You won't regret this," he promised.

Nina, however, wasn't so sure, but she wanted desperately to believe. She said nothing of her fears, and breathed deeply. Leaning forward, she kissed Greg, aware that she could arouse him until he made love to her and drove the demons away for a time. Unsuspecting of her motives, he was very happy to comply.

_Two months later_

"So," Greg asked as he joined his fianc e outside the bridalwear boutique in the shopping mall, "did you find a dress you liked?" He kissed her in greeting before he slipped an arm around her waist, careful to avoid the side on which she carried her oversized tote bag. His free hand held three large bags from other stores.

Nina shook her head as they began to walk towards the exit where they'd parked Greg's car. "Yes, but it would require too much altering, and I don't want to do that."

"Weren't you telling me that Amanda offered to loan you one of her dresses?"

Nina shot him an amused look. "Yes, but I don't want her luck with marriages."

"Oh? What happened?"

"Well, she had to put her last husband in jail for being a murdering bastard. When he got out fifty years later, he immediately tried to kill her. He wasn't successful."

Greg's eyes widened with surprise. "Was he im-?"

"Yes," Nina said, interrupting him before he could finish the word.

He half-smiled, acknowledging the unspoken rebuke. "I take it he's not around anymore."

"No, he's not."

Greg mulled this over. "Don't get that dress," he told her as he pulled open the mall door and stepped out into the half-empty parking garage.

Chuckling, Nina followed him through the door. Catching up to him as he reached his car, she responded, "If I can't find a dress, I may have to."

Greg pulled her into his arms and kissed her. "The dress doesn't matter as much as you do, darling. You could wear nothing and still be a gorgeous bride. In fact," he mused, nuzzling her neck, "I happen to think you're beautiful naked."

She laughed, and broke the embrace. "I don't think your family would appreciate seeing me naked at the altar, nor am I going to give Flynn any more ammunition for his practical jokes."

"Should I be worried about being a target for his joking?" Greg asked, mildly concerned as he opened the trunk.

"Only if you annoy him," Nina returned easily. She kissed him lightly and took the bags from him. "Don't worry, I'll protect you."

Greg smiled. "I think I can handle a practical joke." Assured that she had control of the bags, he stepped away to open the driver's side and get into the car.

Nina had just dropped the bags into the trunk when the scent of smoldering citrus, amber, musk and sandalwood assaulted her and Greg's strangled "What the hell-" reached her. Shutting the trunk, she saw that the other immortal had grabbed Greg. He was a muscular man of medium build and height. Most of the height he had was contained in his long legs. He dressed in faded jeans and a cutoff T-shirt, with skin the color of dark chocolate and short curly hair to match. Nina noticed his left biceps was tattooed in a half-inch band that reminded her of barbed wire; below that was the insignia of the U.S. Marines. She also noticed that he had a face that reminded her of a viper, with his broad forehead, sharply angled cheekbones, beady eyes, almost flat nose, and a sharply pointed jaw. It didn't help that he looked at her hungrily and saw she hadn't drawn her sword.

"Lovely day to be shopping, isn't it?" he greeted her as he muscled Greg into the aisle in front of the sedan. "Warm spring sunshine, birds singing, everyone getting ready for the Memorial Day weekend." His tone was casual, but it held a cynical edge, and his grip on Greg guaranteed bruises.

"That it is," she returned evenly, closing the distance. "Let Greg go, whoever you are."

"I am Sam Carrington of Missouri," he introduced himself. "And the Game is on."

"He's not a part of it," Nina retorted. "Leave him out of it." Her mind raced, trying to place where she'd seen the barbed wire tattoo before, if it was important. Even as she did so, she knew she had to try to charm the strange immortal into letting Greg go. The last thing she wanted to do was take a Challenge in a mostly deserted parking garage, and given that she wasn't sure what the other immortal was capable of, she wanted to end this as peacefully as possible.

"Maybe I won't," Carrington threatened as Greg tried to remove the arm around his throat. In response to Greg's struggling, Carrington tightened his grip.

Clearly, Carrington didn't want to lose his pawn just yet. Still she had to try. "If I agree to fight you, will you let him go?"

"Right here," Carrington growled. "Not later. Now. Refuse and I'll crush his windpipe like matchsticks."

Nina met Greg's terrified eyes. "All right," she agreed quietly. Dropping the tote bag she carried, she withdrew the Roman short sword she used, along with one of the throwing knives she always carried.

Carrington held onto Greg a moment longer before narrowing his eyes. Roughly, he shoved Greg aside and drew a Marine's sabre.

"Run, Greg, now!" Nina ordered as he stumbled with the sudden momentum of his release. She spared him a glance, but Carrington took advantage of her distraction to attack.

Sidestepping, Nina blocked the parry with her sword, and then feinted an attack of her own, which Carrington took. Her left hand held the knife, and she used that now to cut a shallow slice across Carrington's chest. Dancing out of reach, she avoided his blade even as she calculated her next move. It quickly became apparent that Carrington used his muscle strength to weaken his opponents; the parries she halted made her arms ache. Still, she ignored the pain and fought on, too aware of the cost if she lost.

His bruised throat, along with her instructions to run, was forgotten as he watched Nina fight for her life. It hadn't dawned on him just how deadly she could be until just now. For that matter, he hadn't realized how she could move. He knew now the movies lied: the sound of a sword battle wasn't just sharp steel. It was the smack of skin as Nina took a punch, then used her opponent's momentum to deliver a wicked slice across his arm; the grating of metal on metal as she leaped on top of a car, out of sword reach; the grunts of pain and frustration as both tried to gain an upper hand.

Watching them, Greg realized there was nothing he could do to help. Any movement he made could distract Nina, and it seemed as though she was managing fairly well without him. She danced around Carrington's blade, resorting to acrobatics occasionally to get out of his way, and still managed to score more hits on her opponent. At times, the short sword she used appeared to not be in her dominant hand, but her weaker one - but Greg couldn't decide which was which, and it didn't seem as though her opponent could either.

It was as though Carrington had assumed that she was delicate and female, and that his superior strength would just wear her down eventually. Nina wasn't letting him, and Greg could tell that Carrington was growing frustrated with her non-cooperation. He tripped her, but she laughed and rolled into a standing position.

"Is that all you can do?" she taunted, breathing heavily.

Carrington growled. "Bitch," he spat, and lunged.

Nina deflected the blade, but the power Carrington had wielded made her lose contact with her own and caused her to lose her balance. The loss stunned her temporarily and she fell.

Crowing, Carrington assumed she'd stay put where he'd forced her to drop her blade. She used the moment he wasted in gloating to roll out of the way of his blade, grabbing her own as she rolled. Coming out of the roll, she rose smoothly to her feet, a knife in one hand, her sword in the other, and attacked. The knife went sailing through the air at a perfect height, piercing Carrington's heart as he turned to try to defend against the new twist in the fight.

Not giving him a chance to pull it out, Nina swiftly closed the distance and cut off his head, which fell to the concrete in a sickening thud.

"Nina?" Greg rasped, hoping that the fight was now over. Unconsciously, he stepped forward.

She whirled and stared at him with ancient eyes, eyes that chilled him to the bone. Abruptly, he realized he'd never quite understood the phrase "eyes of a killer" until now, and he halted. Pointing the bloodied sword at him, she ordered, "Stay the hell back, Greg, no matter how much you want to come forward."

He followed her gaze to the now headless corpse and watched as a strange, lightning-infused mist started to rise from it. "What the hell..?" he began to ask, then had to stop to cough as his bruised throat protested. His breath caught as he saw Nina spread her arms, bracing herself, and the mist and lightning began to swirl around her before it enveloped her completely. The preternatural cloud assaulted her, inflicting her with the bolts of energy, and he couldn't see how she could stand it. _Fuck, she's being electrocuted to death, _he thought. Just as that registered, she began to scream. Lightning exploded upwards from the corpse and through Nina, and her footing wavered for a moment, but she held on until the lightning faded and the mist had disappeared. It seemed as though she'd simply absorbed all that energy like some massive battery. As she walked tiredly to where Greg stood, he realized that that was exactly what had happened.

For a long moment, she searched his eyes, apparently looking for rejection, he surmised. He shook his head, acutely aware that he couldn't leave now, not after she'd saved his life, not when loving her suddenly seemed so clear. This was the reason she sometimes looked so sad, why she needed someone to lean on, why Daniels was so intent on trying to find out if he'd run or stay. Greg didn't understand everything just yet, but he had nothing to gain by walking away now. Still, he looked at her questioningly.

She placed a gentle kiss on his lips, silencing any questions he might have. "That was a Quickening. I'll explain more later, but let's get you to a doctor first."

"I'm sorry," Greg whispered. "I should have—"

"It's over now," she told him, cutting his words off as she favored him with a small smile. "Come on, we'd better get going before the police show up."

Greg glanced significantly at the corpse on the concrete. Although he was certain leaving the scene of a crime was not a good thing, he didn't think he wanted to stick around for questions, either. He didn't think "Oh, my fianc e's immortal" would be a defense any cop would buy.

Cocking her head, Nina listened for a moment before she shook her head. "No time." Pulling out the boot knife, she wiped it clean, then did the same to her sword. Through some contorting of her body Greg wasn't sure he followed, she managed to hide both in her clothes. Rising to her feet, Nina indicated to Greg that they should make their way back to his car.

Greg could hear sirens wailing as Nina took the wheel and he slid in on the passenger side. Expecting that she'd made a run for it, he was surprised when she drove sedately out of the garage, and merged smoothly into traffic just as the police pulled into the parking structure.

At the next traffic light, Nina glanced at him, and smiled. Reaching over the emergency brake, she grasped his hand. "I love you, Greg, but if I ever tell you to get out of the way, would you promise me you'll do it?"

The rueful chuckle hurt, and he was forced to stop. Settling for a nod, he squeezed her hand. "Yes, dear."

"Good." Nina checked the light, saw it was green, and pressed the accelerator pedal. Hastily, Greg snapped his seatbelt in place as the car lurched forward into traffic.

Several minutes passed before Greg felt comfortable in speaking again. "You. I didn't know you could do all that.that stuff you did back there. You. are you okay?"

"Give me an hour or so, and I will be better. Right now.things are a bit unsettled, but don't worry about me." Nina glanced over at her fianc , sensing his concern. Gently, she added, "I don't work out just for fun."

"Yeah, but-" Greg gestured wildly. "I didn't know you would kill him. And what do you mean by 'settled'?"

The immortal woman was silent a moment while she navigated through traffic. Reaching over, she grasped his hand and squeezed it. "When I take a Quickening, it means I take the other immortal's power. That power is drawn from everything he was, from his memories to his intelligence to his personality. The more power I get, the more charged I become. and it can take a while to settle a Quickening, to make it a part of yourself so you still remain yourself and not who lost to you. I can feel him humming through my blood, wanting to wrestle control, but he wasn't that powerful that I can't overwhelm him. Sex would help, as would a stiff drink, but I can wait until you've seen a doctor for that throat. You don't heal like I do, and I don't want you hurt anymore than that bastard already hurt you.

"I won't make apologies for who I am, or what I do to stay alive, or to keep others from harming those I love. Would you have me let him continue strangling you?"

"No, of course not," Greg replied automatically, then stopped as the words sank in. Suddenly, the discussion he'd had with Alex Daniels took on new meaning. Daniels had been right: Nina didn't need him or anyone else to protect her; she'd just vividly proved that. In a quieter voice, he added, "I just. wasn't expecting you to protect me." Half-jokingly, he said, "I thought I was supposed to be the one protecting you."

She slanted a quick look at him and smiled. "Darling, if I wanted a knight in shining armor, I'd have fallen in love with one..and trust me, I know a few who were knights. I love you." She paused to concentrate on navigating the curve into the parking lot for the emergency service entrance for the nearest hospital. "And you make me happy in a way no one else does." Parking the car, she leaned over to kiss Greg briefly, but the kiss promised a love that would never waver, never falter in the face of danger, nor ever find the same kind of joy in someone else. It broke Greg's heart even as it healed it, and he abruptly knew without question that he'd do anything to keep it. "Now, let's get you seen to, because while I might be good at nursing you through the flu, I make a lousy medic for everything else."

Smiling, Greg swallowed the rush of emotion that welled in his throat and tried to find his voice. Huskily, he settled for, "I love you, Nina." It seemed like a woefully inadequate way of expressing his gratitude and respect, but she seemed to understand, leaning in for another kiss before gently pushing him towards getting out of the car.

The wait for the doctor seemed endless. Greg watched Nina pace the waiting room restlessly, with an energy that bordered on manic. When he did catch her gaze, her expression clearly stated she would've rather been anywhere but in the ultra-sanitized, unrelentingly modern emergency waiting room. The flashes of guilt he saw made him realize too, that she felt responsible for his injury, especially when the nurse handed him paperwork to fill out and Nina snagged the form before Greg could fill out the section on financial responsibility.

"I have insurance," Greg reminded her.

Nina smiled at him and finished filling out the form. It didn't escape Greg's notice that she'd memorized his Social Security number, date of birth, as well as other personal information, more than he remembered giving her. "My fault for not watching more closely," she told him. "I'm the one who has enemies, not you."

He started to protest, but she silenced him with a quick kiss. "No more talking until the doctor says it's okay. I promise, we'll talk about who pays what and the wedding and everything else when you've been cleared by the doctor."

For a moment, Greg started to protest further, but the look on her face silenced him. Taking a deep breath, he nodded his acceptance. It seemed a minor thing now to give in, and as she'd promised, they would discuss everything later. He wasn't sure where loving Nina would lead him, given what he'd already experienced, but he knew that he couldn't live without her, and that life with her would never be boring.

*** Finis ***

©6.10.01

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to:
> 
> * Rhiannon Shaw for once again letting me borrow her characters, providing snippets of dialogue to make sure I got Alex Daniels right, alpha/beta reading, and the reminders that yes, I shouldn't still be up so late….  
>  * Misha for beta reading, countless suggestions, and general support. Live large, mi amiga.  
>  * Cinel for the omega reading. Thanks for making this flow even more smoothly.  
>  * Sharon for the copious Hawaii information (Flynn thanks you for helping him blend in). In Sharon's words: "Kamaaina haole — one who is regarded as a local, not an import. Trust me, there's a pretty big distinction. Kamaaina fight for the tab, always overpay, bring too much food &amp; drink to potlucks, know where all the best 'grinds' (food) are, know better than to turn your back on the ocean, watch for the green flash at sunset, etc. Imports don't blend too well here – and show it, even after years of living here."  
>  * Ms. Lizzy for the information on historical clothing. Nina thanks you for reminding her why she loves present-day clothing so much.  
>  * Dragon for the fight scene suggestions, weapons recommendations, and muse feeding. (Yes, you helped, even if you don't think it was a lot!)  
>  * And lastly, thanks once again to the gang at Rhiannon's Eyrie for answering oddball questions, including how to close a hotel without prior notice. Note to self: under any circumstances, do not annoy these people.


End file.
